DBH: Something to Fight For
by WayWardWonderer
Summary: A string of missing deviants leads Connor to the source of the abductions, and in the end Connor must fight for his life and find his way back to Detroit in one piece after being critically injured. While Connor struggles to survive a brutal world of illegal underground fights Hank struggles to maintain his sobriety after his best friend (and son) disappears without a trace.


It had been a rough week for the two detectives as an arrest of a known 'red ice' dealer who had been stealing android replacement parts put up one hell of a fight when he had the front door of his house kicked in. The fight on the second floor of the house had resulted in Hank being thrown down the staircase in such an aggressive manner he threw out his back and rolled his ankle, while Connor had been turned into a makeshift punching bag by the drugged out and very violent suspect. After the two detectives suffered significant injuries from the lone suspect back-up arrived and secured the suspect, tagging on charges for two counts of assault against police officers, and then called for medical and technical assistance for Hank and Connor respectively.

Having his back and ankle x-rayed, poked, prodded and examined by a while team of doctors had left Hank in a sour mood, while Connor undergoing repairs to his affected biocomponents and fractured cranium over his right eye and right temple had left the stubborn deviant feeling useless and somewhat restless. After being discharged and put on the injured reserved list Hank found himself being watched like a hawk by Connor, and Connor discovered that Hank's paternal instincts were surprisingly resilient.

While Connor had been permitted to return to the precinct after a week of healing, his abdominal injuries having adequate time to recover though the gauze bandages would remain in place for another week at the minimum to ensure no foreign material entered his plastimetal frame where his artificial skin had failed to regenerate, Hank had to remain on the injured reserved list for an additional week. It'd be one of the rare times when one detective would work without their partner watching their back, and as a result the detectives also knew they'd be bored until they were both cleared for work and back on the clock.

"I anticipate that I'll be able to return home at my usual hour." Connor stated from the kitchen as he finished washing up Hank's dishes from that morning's early breakfast. "If you require me to return home earlier than that I will not mind."

"I can last on my own for a few hours, kid." Hank reminded the deviant of his ability to take care of himself as he laid stretched out over the length of the couch with a pillow tucked up under his lower back. "I'm sore, not crippled."

"Yes, of course. Before I go would you like me to bring you another ice pack or heating pad?" Drying off his hands on the small hand towels in the kitchen Connor stood in the doorway leading to the livingroom and looked at the senior detective with a kind stare. "Cold compresses have proven beneficial in reducing pain and swelling, whereas heat has been able to increase blood flow to affected areas that can aid in muscle regeneration."

"I'm fine, son. But speaking of regeneration," Hank motioned to his own right temple before pointing at Connor. "what about that little light of yours?"

Connor reflexively ran his fingertips over the burned out L.E.D. in his right temple as he looked away from Hank and down at the livingroom floor, noting Sumo's stray fur that had collected on the hardwood surface that would need to be swept up later. "...I haven't decided yet."

"Do what you want with it." The very understanding senior detective replied as he sat upright slowly on the couch to test how sore his back truly felt. "Fix it or toss it. It's up to you."

"...What if I don't want to do either?" Connor let his hand drop from his temple and back to his side. "What if I want to keep it, but not have it repaired?"

"Then that's fine, too."

Connor nodded appreciatively only to flinch as he tried and, yet again failed, to cybernetically connect to the world around him or even access his own Mind Palace. "...Hank, do you have your phone on you?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I need to know the time."

"Oh." As Hank fished his phone out of his pocket he gave Connor a sympathetic glance. "Still can't do your cyber thing?"

"No." Connor's right hand went for the coin in his jean pocket and began to fidget with it nervously. "My processors were nearly destroyed by the numerous blows to the cranium that I had endured and still require extensive time to adequately repair. That is also the source of my L.E.D. burning itself out."

"You can't do anything with your scanner or diagnostic, or... whatever?"

"No. During the third day of my initial recovery I was able to run a single, very short and very basic self-diagnostic, but even that program has been disabled by the damage that my system is still repairing, rebooting and restoring."

"Alliteration, nice."

"That wasn't my intention, but thank you."

"Well anyway," smirking at the deviant's mild embarrassment Hank answered Connor's question with a casual tone. "the time is eleven twenty-four in the morning." Hank held up the display screen of his phone for Connor to see before slipping it back into his pocket. "Are you sure you want to go back to work? Your artificial skin hasn't even been able to return over your stomach, and you're still all bandaged up under you shirt. I'll be back starting next week, we can return together if you want to wait."

"I would like to resume a normal routine. It'll help ease my mind." The deviant's head tilted a little as he also mentioned their extended mutual leave of absence, his coin flawlessly dancing over his right knuckles the entire time. "And we will have a massive portion of paperwork to catch up on upon our return. I may not be able to cybernetically file my reports at the moment but I can type almost as quickly, and I will be able to handle it without stressing my system in the process."

"Alright, but you're going to take that emergency phone I gave you. Keep it on your person at all times, AND I want you have to something else."

"What's that?"

"Wait here." Hank motioned for the deviant to take his place on the couch as he carefully stood upright and limped down the hallway. Ignoring the lingering pain Hank set about getting something special for the deviant, and wanted Connor to see that he could get around the house without needing any immediate assistance. "I'll be right back."

Connor steadily made his way into the livingroom and sat down on the couch to wait for Hank to return from his bedroom down the hallway. It wasn't long before Sumo carried over his green fetch ball from his pillow in the corner of the livingroom and dropped it Connor's feet expectantly as the loyal dog sat down beside on the floor beside his master.

"Sorry boy. I need to get ready for work soon." Connor rubbed the dog's ears affectionately as he waited for Hank to return from his bedroom. "We'll play later."

Slowly Hank walked back into the livingroom and handed Connor a gold hued metallic band with a small analog clock in the middle from over the back of the couch. "This is my old watch," Hank explained as he placed the item in Connor's outstretched, opened left palm. "my dad gave it to me as a gift after I graduated high school. I stopped wearing it after I joined the police academy because of all the physical work I was put through and I didn't want it to break, but I never stopped taking care of it."

Connor's brow furrowed with intrigue at the offered item. Holding tightly onto the coin in his right hand he stopped juggling it as he accepted the watch from Hank respectfully. Eyeing it with true awe Connor studied the given watch as if it were a glass doll. "...You want me to have your watch?"

"Yup. You wrap it around your wrist and use it to keep track of the time until your processor thing starts working again, alright?"

"...Alright." Connor tucked his coin back into his pocket before he wrapped the band of the watch around his left wrist and secured it in place. The small analog clock's display resting upright parallel to the back of his hand looked professional and sharp. "Is this correct?"

"Yeah, that's right."

Staring at the ticking second hand on the watch Connor noted the age of the metal, and the somewhat faded face of the clock itself. "Your father gave this to you as a gift?"

"Yup. This was also back in a time just before everyone had a phone to rely on. It may be an outdated piece of technology but it still works."

"I'll do my best to not lose it or accidentally break it."

"I'm not worried about that, Connor." Running his hand through his locks of gray hair Hank sighed and admitted his real fear regarding the day at hand. "I am worried about you going back to work so soon, though."

"As I previously stated I will be reporting to the precinct to handle paperwork, nothing more."

"I hope so, but weird shit always seems to happen at the worst possible moments."

"Think of it this way;" Connor absentmindedly began fussing with the coin in his right hand again. "it's weird shit that keeps us employed."

"Where'd you hear that?" Hank gave Connor an odd glance as he walked around the edge of the couch to pick up Sumo's green ball on the floor before sitting down next to Connor on the lengthy piece of furniture. "From Chris?"

"Tina."

"Oh, I guess that makes sense. She willingly stuck with Gavin as her assigned partner after all this time, so she's used to weird."

Connor proceeded to rise from the couch and walk down the hallway to change into his uniform while Hank tossed the fetch ball for Sumo. "Weird isn't necessarily a bad thing."

"You got that right, son."

As the massive dog trotted into the kitchen to retrieve the green toy for Hank the playful dog seemed to hone in on Connor leaving the house and proceeded to drop the toy at Hank's feet before plodding down the hallway and into Connor's bedroom.

"Hey!" Hank complained as Sumo promptly ignored him in favor of Connor. "I'm the one who's going to stay home and play with you all day." After a few minutes Sumo suddenly went barreling back down the hallway, into the livingroom and over to the couch where he proceeded to put both of his front paws down on Hank's lap and let out a low bark as his tail wagged proudly. "...What are you doing?"

"He found you." Connor explained as he returned to the livingroom with his white dress shirt already on and the black tie draped casually around his shoulders as he slipped on his newly mended gray (former) CyberLife jacket. "I've been training Sumo to track by scent over the past six weeks."

"You're not going to try to take Sumo to the precinct as a search and rescue dog, are you?"

"No, but since his breeding is that of a rescue dog it makes sense to give him some degree of rescue training." As he walked into the kitchen Connor slipped the tie around his upturned shirt collar and tied it properly. Reaching up to a cabinet above the sink Connor pulled down a box of dog treats and dropped one of the bone shaped biscuits into his palm. "Good boy, Sumo."

Hearing the praise Sumo turned his head to look at Connor as the deviant entered the livingroom to give the loyal dog some ear rubs and the treat.

"He's learning quickly. That's the first time I've given him something with your scent to track and he found you immediately."

"What did you give him with my scent?"

Holding up his left wrist Connor showed Hank the gold watch and gave him a coy glance. "Your watch."

"Smartass."

The deviant just smirked to himself as he smoothed out the fabric of his gray jacket and looked more human than ever. Between the lack of glowing L.E.D. in Connor's temple and the simplistic gray jacket that just looked like the atypical suit jacket as opposed to CyberLife labeled fabric Connor looked like the average detective setting about his average shift for the day.

"You know something, kid? Your jacket looks much better that way." The senior detective complimented as Connor straightened his tie and clipped it into place against the front of his white dress shirt. "None of those damn CyberLife insignias are anywhere, and not a trace of those damn labels.."

"I agree." Noting the complete lack of serial number, model number, CyberLife triangle over the left breast or the back, and total removal of the oppressive 'android' markings along the shoulders, Connor decided that his frequently repaired gray jacket was indeed much better after his numerous alterations over the past few months. "But it does look a little plain now. The dual shades of gray and single patch of black aren't exactly stylish."

"You know plain isn't necessarily a bad thing, either."

"...Yes. I know." Pulling his emergency phone out of his jacket's pocket he made sure it still had a full charge before he slipped it back into place for Hank's peace of mind. Dancing the quarter over his knuckles Connor set to recalibrate his hand-eye coordination and take his leave of the house. "I will remain in contact through the phone until I can cybernetically resume communication."

"Good. And remember to keep track of time with that watch." He raised a finger as if scolding Connor, but it was a hollow gesture and just meant to be seen as one of seriousness. "And stop messing with that damn coin! It's a bad habit."

"I will, Hank." The slightly embarrassed deviant immediately pocketed the coin with a faint blush on his face as he took the car keys from the nearby bookshelf on the wall. Heading toward the front door he Connor pulled it open and gave Hank a subtle nod as he stepped out of the house. "I will see you later."

"Yeah, kid." Waving Connor off Hank stayed on the couch and put his other hand on Sumo's ears. "See ya' later."

* * *

It wasn't more than an hour before Connor found himself bored with the paperwork at his desk and wanting a new case to mill over for the sake of intrigue. Sitting alone at the desk, finding the opened space at the opposite side of his terminal screen to be disturbingly quiet without Hank's presence, Connor would file a report and then attempt; and fail, to access his cybernetic processors to check on his overall recovery rate. While he hadn't suffered any permanent damage after being assaulted by the thermite over six weeks ago the substance had proven to be far more harmful and destructive than anyone could have anticipated, hence his slower than average recovery speed.

Pressing his right fingertips to his right temple Connor felt his burned out L.E.D. with a curious touch, then retracted his hand as if afraid of the direct contact.

"How're you faring, Connor?" Captain Fowler walked by the desk and placed a tablet with a new case down for the Sergeant to file. "You look good."

"I'm healing well." Connor's reply was honest and succinct. "I just find the prospect of spending my entire shifting doing something as tedious as paperwork to be an uneventful endeavor. I am... bored."

"Sorry about that, but it needs to be done."

"Yes, I'm aware."

"Maybe you can assist Chris with a few missing deviant reports to break up the monotony?"

"Missing deviants?" Connor's brow arched inquisitively as he looked away from his terminal screen and up to his commanding officer still standing beside his desk. "Like a missing person?"

"Yeah. A few deviants have been reported as missing by their human companions, and since so many deviants sought shelter at New Jericho Tower in the past year we just figured that maybe they had gone back to help with the tower's repairs. Turns out none of the deviants are there."

"Such a location for a group of missing deviants would be highly unlikely. The deviants assisting the reconstruction of New Jericho Tower were normal residents at the tower, or deviants who already work construction in the city volunteering their time. There would be no place for additional deviants to take temporary shelter until after the tower has been rebuilt entirely. Also, if the deviants were simply volunteering their time in another part of the city their human companions would have no need to report them as missing to begin with."

"Then maybe there is something to the missing deviant cases after all." Captain Fowler crossed his arms defensively over his chest as he glanced over at Chris's desk a few feet away. "You finish your paperwork and then go help Chris out. Alright?"

"Yes, Captain." Picking up the tablet Connor eyed it quickly and easily typed up the details on his terminal's keyboard. "I'll get to work on it soon."

* * *

Nearly overwhelmed by his workload Chris was happy to have the help with the numerous missing deviant cases, but it was still a challenge to try to identify a possible pattern regarding the unusual disappearances. Approximately two dozen deviants had seemingly vanished from the city over the past three months, but none of the deviants had anything in common with one another outside of being androids residing in Detroit city limits. They had no single common occupation, residence or even location of disappearance.

"This is where I got stumped." Chris admitted as he pointed at the terminal screen on his desk. "There's no connection between any of the deviants in their personal or professional lives. And they were not seen in a single location that would connect them to a single point of interest."

"Curious." Reading the details on the screen over Chris's shoulder Connor confirmed that the officer's search had been thorough and no detail had been overlooked. "The deviants in question do not have a history of traveling away from the city or behaving erratically. The only thing they do seem to have in common are human companions."

"You think the humans had something to do with it?"

"No. If the humans were involved then they either wouldn't have bothered to file the missing deviant reports, or one of them would've made a mistake and proven their guilt as a conspirator long before this current date."

"So what're you thinking?"

"I don't think these deviants are missing. I think they were targeted and taken."

"Abducted? Why?"

"Their companionship with humans must be somehow beneficial to someone else. Perhaps the ability to blend in with humans while retaining android enhancements made the deviants prime targets for some kind of illegal activity."

"Like burglary or hacking?"

"Precisely. But why the deviants have all disappeared is something I can't quite track, or link to a single offender."

"I'll keep looking into it."

"Where was the last location that the most recently reported deviant was seen last?"

"Uh, right here." Chris brought up the correct file and isolated the details from the other files for Connor to see. "The deviant's name is 'Alec' and he lives with his human companion Robert Wells downtown. Looks like he was supposed to pick up something from the shipping yard four days ago but he never arrived. When Alec didn't return by the next day Mr. Wells filed the missing deviant report."

Connor squared his jaw with deep silent contemplation at the notion of a string of possible deviant abductions. There had to be a reason for the dozens of abductions, and yet there wasn't any clue as to what the motivation could be or whom the offender could be.

"What?" The silent thinking quickly caught Chris's attention as he glanced up at Connor still standing behind him. "What're you thinking?"

"...Maybe the deviant _did_ make it to the shipping yard, but was met with misfortune. Maybe even assault."

"You wanna' go check out?"

"Correct."

"Okay. I'll go with you."

"No. We don't know anything about our possible suspect outside of him targeting deviants. If he sees you then he'll never make a move and give himself away. If anything seeing a human cop would make him take extra steps to keep his trail hidden."

"Whoa, whoa... Wait," Chris was already apprehensive about Connor's plan and didn't want anything bad to happen. "you're not seriously going to try to offer yourself up as bait, are you?"

"It may be the only way to find the suspect."

"Yeah, and it's also a CRAZY way. It's too dangerous, Connor."

"I'm the only deviant on the police force. I have to go."

"Connor, what if something happens out there? You'll need back-up."

"Yes, you're correct." Connor pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and held it in a tight fist in his right hand. "I'll make contact with the precinct if it becomes necessary and request assistance."

"...What're you going to tell Hank?"

"I'll tell him I'm working late."

"Connor, you're still healing." Trying to be the voice of reason for Connor during Hank's absence Chris righteous tried to dissuade the stubborn deviant from doing something reckless. "You need to try to take it easy."

"I will. Once I handle this case."

"You better clear it with Captain Fowler, first."

"Captain Fowler is the one who assigned me to this case to assist you." Connor pocketed his phone and backed away from the desk to take his leave of the precinct to begin his field investigation. "I'll check out the shipping yard for suspicious activity, but I won't make a move without back-up in the immediate area."

"I don't like it, Connor."

"Neither do I. But it's necessary."

"Alright, I'll trust you on this. Do what you have to do, and keep in contact."

* * *

Using an autonomous taxi to ensure he remained as discreet as possible Connor arrived at the shipping yard of where the most recently reported missing deviant had been last seen, and he arrived alone with only his phone and his gun as his protection. Being unable to run a scan over the area or connect cybernetically to the precinct left Connor with a massive disadvantage that he had never experienced before, but the idea of remaining at the precinct to simply file away reports while dozens of deviants had suddenly disappeared was almost sickening to the incredibly empathetic detective.

Locating a clerical office near the entrance of the shipping yard Connor pulled the phone out of his jacket and texted Chris to let him know that he had arrived and was beginning his subtle investigation. He then texted Hank to let him know what was happening and to not worry.

As a means of keeping a relatively low profile Connor slipped off his gray jacket, tucking his wallet inside the internal pocket within the left lapel and his gun inside the larger external pocket, before he left it folded it neatly on a dark blue oil barrel near the entrance of the yard. Without his his glowing L.E.D. or holstered gun wrapped around Connor could easily pass himself off as a normal human. With just his white dress shirt and black tie he looked like a supervisor inspecting the shipping yard, and would be able to walk about without being disturbed in the process.

Keeping his phone in his right palm Connor frequently texted updates to Chris regarding the investigation, then texted Hank to let him know of his intentions.

It didn't take Connor long before he picked up on some illegal activity taking place at the shipping yard as he searched the area discreetly. Numerous shipping cargo containers had their original serial numbers sanded off and painted over, dozens of storage containers had been their locks broken or altered, and several of the yard workers were ex-convicts who had been previously arrested for smuggling goods into and out of the country. The other yard workers were convicted drug dealers, or had been charged with distributing illegal arms.

The area was full of convicts and whatever was happening was being kept quiet from the police.

'_Chris, please get a warrant and dispatch a crime scene investigation crew to my area: There is evidence of black marketeering and theft_.'

There was a brief moment of silence before Chris replied to the text accordingly: '_I'll tell Fowler. Keep safe_.'

'_I will endeavor to do so_.'

Connor kept the phone concealed in the palm of his right hand as he managed to text Hank with only his thumb and without need to look at the screen until after he received a reply text: '_Hank, I am nearly finished with my investigation_.'

Same with Chris there was only a brief pause before Hank replied. '_Good. Get your ass back to the precinct where you belong_.'

'_I will as soon as I've finished_.'

Slipping the phone up the cuff of his shirt's long right sleeve Connor proceeded to walk through the towering rows of shipping and cargo containers only to have his exit cut off by a broadly built yard worker brandishing a black crowbar in his hands. The man had been watching Connor and knew that he was snooping around where he didn't belong.

"What're you doing here, kid?" Standing tall at six foot three and well muscled the man had thick tattoos all up his arms, the sides of his neck and the back of his bald head. The man's hollow gray eyes narrowed as he glared at Connor and confirmed he was in fact a threat. "You have no business spying on people."

"I..." Connor didn't have his badge anymore not that he wanted to let them know the police were on the way anyway, and had no means of identifying himself. Instead he tried to bluff his way past the man and get out of the shipping yard in one piece. "I was merely looking around. I'll be on my way now."

The man glanced over Connor curiously as a second man appeared behind Connor, blocking his potential second exit path in the event that Connor tried to run. Sensing the danger Connor turned his head slightly to look at the second man standing behind him, but he didn't show any fear or concern on his face.

"I watched you sneak around." The first man snarled angrily at Connor as he slapped the crowbar down in the palm of his left hand in a threatening manner as he sought to intimidate Connor. "You're a deviant, aren't you?"

"...I fail to see the relevancy to this situation."

From behind the second yard worker confirmed the first's question as he looked at Connor's right temple and saw the blank light. "It's a deviant alright. The L.E.D.'s out but it's there!" The second worker was holding a lead pipe in his hands as if brandishing a weapon, and a sinister grin appeared on his face. Like the first man he was tall, strong, covered in ink but he had several missing teeth from his years of drug abuse. "Looks like we'll make our quota after all."

"I've never seen this kind of model before." The first man observed as he didn't recognize the 'RK' model standing before him. "Must be new."

Connor didn't react to the comment as he stared the man down and discreetly sent a text to Hank: '_Two workers have isolated me. Back-up is not here yet, they are threatening me and I cannot run._'

Hank's response went unread as Connor locked eyes with the man in front of him.

"I bet Chance would give us a hefty bonus for sending him a rare model."

"Yeah," the second man agreed as he walked up behind Connor and reeled back the lead pipe for a brutal swing. "I think you're right."

Reacting quickly Connor turned around and managed to block the swing from the pipe with his hands, the phone tucked up his sleeve receiving minor damage in the process as he guarded himself. Grabbing hold of the lead pipe Connor held his attacker back with little difficulty, and fought to wrest the weapon from the human's grip.

"Fuck man!" The man swore as he had anticipated Connor's strength. "Definitely a deviant!"

As Connor pulled the pipe from the second worker's hand the first worker rushed up behind Connor and struck him in the back of the skull with his crowbar.

Connor collapsed to the ground, dropping the pipe, and landed on his stomach and winced at the incredible pain in the back of his head and in his abdomen from where his previous injuries were still healing. Thinking quickly Connor rolled to his right side and wrapped his arms around his abdomen and stealthily slipped the phone from his right sleeve, and managed to slide it up under his shirt and tuck it under the tight layers of gauze bandaging around his abdomen to keep the phone concealed.

"Seriously? One hit is all it took?" The first man kicked Connor in the stomach and caused him to roll from his side onto his back as he let out a deep groan of pain. "What the fuck?" Grabbing onto Connor's shirt the man tore open the buttons and saw the bandages wrapped around Connor's abdomen. "Oh, look at this. Our 'new friend' has already been in a fight. Must be one tough bastard to keep fighting with a wound like that..."

The second man reclaimed his pipe and stood over Connor. "Yeah... Chance is going to give us a BIG bonus for this scrapper!"

"Yeah, take him out!"

Connor closed his soulful brown eyes as the second man swung the lead pipe down and struck a horrible blow against the right side his face that rendered him unconscious in an instant. Blackness stole his vision and Connor knew nothing more of the waking world around him.

* * *

Trying to not think of the worst case scenario Hank held the phone tightly in his right hand as he anxiously awaited a reply from Connor, but no such response came. Hank sent another text to Connor looking for an update but like the previous texts it went unanswered. Sensing that something went horribly wrong Hank swore to himself as he hailed an autonomous taxi to take him to the precinct, and marched outside the front door to wait for the summoned vehicle to stop and pick him up. Not even a sore back was going to slow him down while Connor was in trouble.

"Son of a bitch. I knew he shouldn't have gone back without me."

Pacing about the sidewalk impatiently Hank sent another text to Connor and hoped he'd answer soon.

"The kid's still hurt and can't even access his own damn mind. I never should've let him go."

The autonomous vehicle pulled up along the sidewalk and came to a stop. The passenger side door slid open automatically and Hank sat down in the vehicle as he put in his destination.

"Fuckin' hell..." As the taxi pulled back onto the street Hank changed the contact on his phone over from Connor to Captain Fowler and called his commanding officer as he sped to the precinct. "Jeffrey, it's me. What the fuck is happenin' with Connor? I can't reach him."

'_Hank_?' Captain Fowler was thoroughly confused by the unexpected phone call from his Lieutenant. '_What're you_-'

"Don't bullshit me, Jeffrey." His every instinct as a father told him that Connor was in danger and needed immediate help. "I KNOW something's up. Tell me that fuck is going on."

* * *

Pain was the first thing Connor could feel as the waking world crept back into his mind. Connor's system slowly rebooted as he regained consciousness, but even after opening his eyes the world around him was still dark. A thick black cotton rag was tied over his eyes creating a tight blindfold to keep him from seeing where he currently was. Laying on his right side with his arms bound behind his back in tight plastic zip ties, and his legs bound at both of the knees and the ankles in the same manner, Connor was unable to move from where he had been placed and couldn't gain his bearings.

Using his other senses Connor realized that while he was laying on a cold metal floor he wasn't in a typical room; the room itself was moving. A gentle rhythmic swaying accompanied by the distinct sound of a locomotive engine informed Connor that he had been taken captive and was now in a train car being taken out of the city. Using his unfailing sense of direction even with his G.P.S. down Connor knew that the train was heading West, but to which city was a still a mystery.

As he made an effort to sit upright on the floor Connor let out a sharp wince of pain and immediately relaxed again. The pain in his abdomen was still burning as the strong kick had aggravated his still healing injuries, and had proven to be an effective means of keeping him docile.

"Don't move around." An unfamiliar, but kind and masculine voice warned Connor from the other side of the train car. "You took a nasty blow to your head, you need to take it easy. It's nice to hear you finally awake, nonetheless."

"Wh-Who are you?" Connor dared to ask as he turned his head toward the sound of the voice as he sought answers. "Where are we?"

"My name is Alec. I'm a deviant, like you." Alec sounded so far away, his voice carrying great remorse with every word. "And we're on a train heading to Chicago."

"Chicago?!" Connor was alarmed at the revelation and tried to get up again only let out a gasping yelp of pain as the sudden movement stole his breath. "I... I can't go to Chicago... I need to return to Detroit!"

"We don't have a choice."

"...You've been through this before?"

"Unfortunately, no. I have no idea what's going to happen to us once we arrive in the city."

"How do you know where we are going?"

"I overheard the humans speaking after they left you here." Alec explained calmly; his tone was sincere and honest. While he arguably had no reason to lie Connor still needed to make sure the unseen deviant was telling the truth. "They must've assumed I was still in stasis mode, or they just didn't care."

"How long have you been here, Alec?"

"Five days."

"...That fits the timeline."

"Timeline?"

"Your human friend, Robert, filed a report declaring you missing four days ago."

"Robert is a good guy." Alec sounded relieved to know someone was looking for him. "He was always one of the good humans, never treated me like a machine or a second-class citizen. That's why I stayed with him after I became a deviant. He's really my best friend." A strange sense of confusion suddenly struck Alec and he needed to know something about Connor. "...But how do you know that Robert filed a report?"

"I work with the Detroit Police Department, I was investigating your disappearance along with several others." Connor explained with a willingness to trust Alec. "Why were you taken?"

"I do not know. But I do know that we aren't the first deviants that those men have taken."

"I agree." Connor slowly curled around himself on the floor of the train car and tried to breathe as slowly and as deeply as possible to quell his lingering pain in his aching abdomen. Letting out a deep breath Connor managed to ease his discomfort just long enough to speak to Alex for a moment more. "My name is Connor, by the way."

"Connor. I'll remember that." Alec let out a weary sigh of his own as he seemed relieved to have an ally at last. "We've been traveling for almost two hours now. You should try to rest and let your self-healing program mend your damage before we arrive."

Reluctantly Connor decided that Alec was right. In too much pain and already too tired to try to free himself from his binds Connor allowed himself to slip into rest mode just long enough to let his self-healing program begin to remedy his pain, and try to repair his dwindling damage. As he rested on the cold metal floor of the train car Connor could feel the phone he concealed under his bandages against his abdomen buzz as text after text after text popped on the screen seeking Connor's whereabouts.

All of the texts would have to go unread and unanswered until Connor could get his arms free.

"Hank." The deviant whispered to himself as he could feel the phone begging to be answered teasing him where he laid. "...I know it's you."

* * *

Like a man on a mission Hank met with Chris in Captain Fowler's office and had to hold back his anger as he tried to figure out what had happened to Connor at the shipping yard. Despite the officers responding to the shipping yard within minutes of Connor's request for back-up there was no sign of the deviant within the shipping yard, or anywhere around it.

The workers down at the shipping yard denied ever seeing Connor, and were proving to be annoyingly difficult to get any answers from. They had been questioned for hours and those who had illegal drugs and weapons on their person had been taken into custody for additional questions later on.

"He has to be there somewhere!" Hank blurted angrily as he gave Captain Fowler an angry stare. "He isn't responding to the texts I've been sending him, and no one can see him. He must be hurt or-"

Knocking on the glass door of the office Gavin walked inside carrying Connor's gray jacket, gun and wallet. "Cap... We found this outside the shipping yard. Connor _was_ there and now we can prove it."

"What the hell?" Hank took the jacket from Gavin's hand. "Why'd he take this off?"

"Beats me. But his wallet and his gun were with it."

"Shit... He's unarmed and doesn't have any I.D. on him."

"We'll find him, Hank." Gavin tried to reassure the Lieutenant but Hank wasn't going to just take his word for it. "We'll keep combing the yard until we figure out what happened down there."

Hank held onto the jacket and stared at it as if looking at a relic of the past. "Connor, where are you?"

Captain Fowler sympathetically shook his head at he saw the worry in his Lieutenant's eyes. "Hank. Go home. We'll keep looking for Connor, you keep trying to reach him with your phone."

"That's it?" Frustrated and needing more answers Hank hated the simplistic order and angrily snarled in response. "I just go home and text like some preteen with a crush?"

"That's all you _can_ do. Remember, you're still on the injured reserved list."

"Fuck that! I'm now medically cleared to come back!"

"No, Hank!" Holding his ground Captain Fowler refused to let Hank work on the search. "Stay away from this case!"

"Jeffrey, don't you-"

"HANK." Captain Fowler raised his voice slightly to remind Hank of his authority and need to keep him at bay due to him being so close to Connor. "Go home, NOW. I don't want to suspend you before you're even back on the clock! You're too close and anything you find can be dismissed by a court due to bias."

"...Fine." Hank tucked Connor's jacket, gun and wallet under his arm and stormed out of the office. Grabbing his car keys from Connor's side of the desk Hank made his way through the front doors of the precinct to enter the neighboring parking garage and take his own car back home. Unlocking the driver's side door Hank sat down behind the wheel and aggressively turned the key in the ignition. "Piece of shit rules. I'll find him myself."

* * *

The moment of painless peace was interrupted against the deviant's will. Connor was abruptly and rudely awoken by a firm kick to the abdomen that knocked his breath from his system with one fell strike. As he coughed violently and curled around himself his system rebooted just enough for Connor to realize he was no longer on the floor of the swaying train car, but a cold concrete floor that had a stagnant air with the distinct aroma of expired Thirium wafting about with a richly acrid aroma.

"Wh-Where am... I?" Connor wheezed and stammered as a strange person loomed over him. Still blindfolded Connor could feel the person's presence and smell old alcohol on the person's breath. "Answer me."

Calloused fingers snatched the blindfold from over Connor's eyes finally allowing the deviant to see the world around him. An older man with a balding head, a short scraggly, gray goatee and a large black inked cobra tattoo snaking up the length of his left arm was standing over the wounded deviant. Sporting a grin that had a single missing canine tooth and soulless stare of gray tinted eyes, the man looked down at Connor with a demented intent.

"Who are you?"

"You're in my arena, now, 'Hunter'." The man replied in a gruff and heartless manner. "State your name."

"Sergeant Connor Anderson." Connor replied in an angry tone as rolled from his right side and shifted his weight so he could sit upright on the cold concrete floor. "And this is kidnapping, not to mention assault against a police officer."

The man just laughed in Connor's face as he listened to the what the bold deviant had said. "No, no, no..." Kicking Connor in the center of his chest the man took a step back and waited for Connor to stop coughing before he continued. "You're in MY arena, and so you're going by the name I'VE chosen for you. 'Hunter': State your name."

"I told you my name. It's _Connor_."

"No, 'Hunter'." Reaching a hand down he struck Connor across the face with a harsh slap. "Tell me your name..."

"...You," Connor studied the man's words carefully and followed him bizarre request out a morbid curiosity and desire to end the needless assault against his person. "you want me to refer to myself as... 'Hunter'?"

"Now you're getting it." The man slapped him again, his fingers stinging from the needless assault he instigated. Pulling a black canvas wrap from his back pocket the man revealed a glass vial and syringe. Loading the syringe with the contents from the vial the man inserted the needle into a vein in his left arm right where the fangs of his cobra tattoo had been inked, and injected the contents into his system. Letting out a deplorable sigh of drug induced relief the man returned his attention to Connor as he replaced the items into the canvas and back into his pocket. "What's your name?"

Connor turned his gaze away from the man and squared his jaw in silent defiance.

"You're stubborn, I like that." Another slap to Connor's face. It was enough to cause Connor's nose to drip with blue blood after being struck so many times so quickly. "I really do. It makes it so much more satisfying when I break a deviant's will."

Rebelling in silence Connor looked back at the man and glared venomously.

Giving Connor one last slap over the face the man took a step back. "What's your name?"

"Fuck off."

"And you have a fighting spirit!" The man kicked Connor's chest again, this time hard enough to cause the plastimetal frame to fracture in thin spiderweb like lines just above the bandages wrapped around his abdomen. Connor fell back and began coughing violently to his now fractured 'ribs'. "This is going to be fun... 'Hunter'."

The man walked to the single metal door of the barren concrete and stone room and pulled the door open with a firm jerk.

Connor's eyes were watering from the harsh coughs but he refused to let the man see the pain in his soulful brown eyes.

"I'll be back for you tonight. Your first match is at ten, and it be better be good." Stepping through the large opened door in the far wall of the room he looked back at Connor with a greedy leer in his cold eyes. "I have a lot of money riding on you, 'Hunter'."

The metal door slammed shut with a metallic echo that resonated throughout the room.

"You better not cross Chance, if you know what's good for you."

Blinking a few times Connor looked to the source of the familiar voice who had spoken to him. Another deviant was standing in the corner of the room and stepped forward to approach Connor only after the demented human had left. "Alec?"

"Yes." The deviant confirmed. His model and design was similar to that of Josh from New Jericho, but Alec had dark blue eyes and was sporting a distinct scar down his right cheek. "Hold still, I'll get your bindings off."

Connor agreed and sat still as Alec knelt down on the floor behind him to free Connor's arms from the tight plastic binds around his wrists, and his elbows.

Once his arms were free Connor set to work untying the additional binds from around his knees and his ankles. "I presume this 'Chance' you mentioned was the man who just left."

"Yeah. I had the 'pleasure' of meeting him while you were still in rest mode." Alec sat down on the floor next to Connor and watched as Connor carefully slipped his now freed fingers under the bandages around his abdomen. "Chance is the owner of an underground deviant fight ring. He has deviants fight each other for sport combat, and patrons bet on the matches."

"...And we were unceremoniously drafted to his roster, weren't we?"

"I'm afraid so. He said my name is now 'Nomad' since I 'wandered' into the wrong shipping yard at the wrong time."

Connor's eyes narrowed with self-hatred and guilt as he realized why Chance had dubbed him 'Hunter'. Somehow he knew of Connor's past as the infamous 'Deviant Hunter' before the Revolution. "...I see. All of the missing deviants must've been taken here and forced to fight as well." Carefully Connor slipped his hand up under the layers of the bandages wrapped around his abdomen and pulled out the partially damaged phone he had managed to conceal from the humans who had trapped him at the shipping yard. "...We need to get out of here."

Alec watched Connor curiously with his blue eyes filled with fear and confusion. "What're you doing?"

"I'm going to try to call for help." Connor revealed the phone and his eyes fell on the cracked screen over the dozens of unread texts that Hank had sent him over the past seven hours. "...Hank."

"Who's Hank?"

"...My friend. A father, really." Connor replied as he tried to send a message to the senior detective, but the phone was too damaged to properly send a message. An 'error' message appeared on the screen as he replied failed to send. "Shit. It won't respond."

"Can't you cybernetically link up with the phone?"

"...No. My processors were recently damaged and have yet to fully repair. And even if a cybernetic connection were possible the odds of the message successfully getting through on a phone this damaged are less than six point two percent."

"It can't send texts thanks to my model being altered before I deviated. Maybe the phone can still dial out."

"No. The phone is locked in its current mode and cannot be repaired or rebooted properly."

Another message popped up on the screen from Hank and Connor read it quickly: '_Connor, I'm trying to find you. Are you okay_?'

Unable to respond to the message Connor closed his soulful brown eyes and bowed his head as he set the phone aside on the cold floor out of sight in the shadows against the wall. "...No, Hank. I'm not."

"Well, what do we do now?"

As Connor's hand made a move for the coin in his right pocket he caught himself, and froze. He remembered what he had promised Hank earlier that morning about not fussing with the coin. The least he could do was keep his promise to Hank, even if Hank didn't know it was happening. "...We wait."

"Wait? Wait for what?"

"Alec, we need to be smart about this if we're going to escape alive."

* * *

Sitting on the back step of the house with Sumo laying at his side Hank repeatedly checked his phone for a reply message from Connor, checked to make sure the texts he had sent earlier had been sent properly, checked to make sure the phone had a decent signal and checked the battery. The phone was working just fine and yet there was no response. It was Connor who seemed to be having a problem on his end and that thought alone was enough to make Hank feel sick to his stomach.

Sumo let out a whimper as he sensed Hank's distress prompting the senior detective to rest one hand atop the large dog's head affectionately.

"I'll find him, Sumo. I'm not giving up on Connor." Hank sent another message to the missing deviant and clutched his phone tightly in his hand as he waited for any kind of reply from Connor. "He'd never give up on me."

As the dark warm night fell over the city Hank just stared at the phone in his hand as a chorus of crickets and the distant ambience of traffic surrounded him with a contrasting white noise of normalcy.

"Come on, son. I know you're out there somewhere..."

Refusing to just accept that Connor was simply missing or that the phone was glitching Hank dragged his hand over his bearded chin and sighed deeply.

"Too bad you can't pick up Connor's scent and track him down like you did for me."

Again Sumo whimpered and put his paw up on Hank's knee.

"It'll take time, boy. But we'll find him. I can feel it."

* * *

With nowhere to go and nothing to do Connor sat idle on the hard floor with his back pressed up against the cold, concrete wall of the imprisoning room in a light form of rest mode. It was an attempt to try to heal his damaged body but it did little to help him regain his strength. Meanwhile Alec tried to find a way to pry open the lock on the metal door. But even with his enhanced android strength Alec was unable to unseal the door and escape. The cold room was silent save for Alec's muttering to himself and Connor's slow breathing. A gentle ticking sound from Hank's watch around Connor's wrist went unnoticed by either deviant as their minds were left preoccupied by their own tasks.

"This lock is very well made." Alec admitted as he stepped away from the door and stood beside Connor who was still sitting on the floor. "I don't think I can break it."

Connor's brown irises reappeared as his eyes opened and he glanced up at Alec. "Perhaps we can combine our strength later on and break the lock during the early morning hours when less humans will be active."

"How do you know how many humans are around?"

"I can hear sixty-seven distinct voices speaking amongst one another two floors above us; twenty-two are female and forty-five are male. This includes Chance. As the day had turned to night the crowd of people had grown larger by approximately two-hundred and nineteen people, and have amassed upstairs for what I assume to be the impending bouts that Chance spoke of earlier."

"I don't want to fight anyone."

"Neither do I."

"What if we have to fight _each other_?"

"...Then we will put on a convincing show but not actually harm one another. It could also be a way for us to escape once we're out of this cell."

"Do you think we can do that?"

"Only one way to find out." Connor let out a weary sigh as he rolled up the left sleeve of his shirt and looked down at the watch wrapped around his wrist; it was nine fifty-four in the evening. "It's nearly ten o'clock. He'll be coming back for me."

"What're you going to do?"

"I'll think of something." Connor shook his head and he pulled the tie from around his neck and slipped off his white dress shirt. Folding the garments neatly on the floor Connor took the watch from his wrist and the phone from the floor to conceal the two items within the folds of the fabric out of sight. As he stood upright he pressed his hand over his sore abdomen atop the slowly dirtying white bandages and breathed in a calm, controlled manner. "I'm going to see what's going on upstairs and try to find a way to escape."

"But you can't cybernetically link to anything. How are you going to find an escape route?"

"...I'll manage."

A large hidden panel on the Western wall of the room slid open and revealed a thick plexiglass window giving the two occupants of the room a clear view of the arena in which they were expected to engage in combat. The window was ground level with the floor of the arena out of eye sight of the surrounding, raised up bleachers that encircled the arena. There was a massive crowd of humans from all walks of life; rich, poor, educated, uneducated, black, white, male, female, all gathered around the arena in eager expectation of the barbaric spectacle that Chance had arranged for the night. There wasn't a single empty space on the bleachers as the crowd packed the arena to watch the fight.

"Full house." Connor observed warily as he and Alec approached the window to peer at the arena. "This is a very popular sport, it seems."

The door to the concrete room opened up as Chance had returned to collect Connor. Standing behind Chance was another android, not a deviant. His model was strikingly similar to that of Luther, and very intimidating. With his eyes an ominous gold tint and the L.E.D. still in his right temple and cycling a calm blue the towering android was an unexpected menace to the otherwise unshakable deviant detective.

"Alright, Hunter." Chance taunted with a wicked glee as he motioned toward the exposed window with his arm. "It's your debut match, so don't disappoint the crowd."

"What if I refuse to cooperate?"

"Then I'll have Gunner here," Chance motioned to the android standing behind with a thumb over the shoulder. "_persuade_ you to cooperate. And if that doesn't work then I'll have him tear you apart slowly, painfully, and drop your body piece by piece into Lake Michigan to remind your little friend there of what happens to anyone who doesn't listen to me."

Connor stared up at Gunner and took in the menacing figure's features: tall, broadly built, soulless eyes, a clean shaven bald head, dozens of scars around his eyes, jaw, lip, over his knuckles and up his forearms; Gunner was an experienced fighter and would have no qualms about murdering any deviant that disobeyed Chance.

Letting out a tired sigh Connor relented and realized he didn't have a choice in the matter. "...Who is my opponent?"

"Good answer, 'Hunter'. Come this way."

Hesitantly but obediently Connor followed after Chance, with the intimidating Gunner following after him to ensure that the deviant didn't try anything to harm Chance or flee from the building. As Connor was led to the arena's entrance he couldn't help but think of the night he had challenged Rampage to a fight and had only won because of Rampage's deeply seeded moral honor. To fight another deviant for the sake of entertainment, to fight for either his life or the other deviant's life, would have no such moral code attached.

Chance stopped walking and stepped aside as he presented Connor with an opened door leading to the heart of his makeshift arena located in a hidden area beneath an unknown property. "Go out there and wait for your opponent." The cold human instructed as he pointed to the arena and motioned for Connor to enter. "And, you better _win_. I have a massive wager in your favor, so don't disappoint me."

Giving Chance one final toxic stare Connor stepped through the opened door, his hand pressed against his sore abdomen and walked out into the bright lights shining down from the ceiling to the arena floor below. As Connor made his entrance Chance's voice sounded off through crudely installed speakers mounted on the four walls surrounding the arena to hype up the crowd as a cacophony of cheers and boos echoed all around the unwilling deviant occupant.

'_Alright, place your bets_!' Chance sounded like a sportscaster and it made Connor feel sick. '_We have a new contender tonight_!'

Connor shook his head, his eyes fixated on the floor beneath him as he walked into the arena. The floor was a hexagonal shape of concrete with red and blue paint along the borders to divide the arena into two pieces. Weak, uneven chainlink fencing surrounded the arena at the sides keeping the hexagonal shape, stretching ten feet upward from the floor and connecting to a chainlink ceiling over the arena to create a macabre dome for combat.

'_Behold the infamous "Deviant Hunter" from Detroit himself_.'

Connor inwardly flinched at the nickname that Chance happily shared with the crowd.

'_The most advanced prototype that CyberLife had ever created before going bankrupt, AND the very android responsible for unleashing an entire army of deviants on the city, I give you: "The Hunter"_.'

The cheering and boos became louder as the crowd was introduced to Connor in the most cruel manner the deviant could imagine. It was a mockery of everything he had done in Detroit, and of everything he stood for as a detective.

'_And his opponent, our returning twenty-four time victor_...' From the other side of the arena where the red paint had been laid a second deviant entered and stood before Connor with a blank, emotionless stare. This model was unfamiliar to Connor, someone who was a total stranger yet still a fellow deviant in need of help. '_Welcome back: "The Slayer"_.'

More cheers and less boos erupted from the crowd as 'The Slayer' stared through Connor and into blank nothingness.

'The Slayer' was of average build for the typical android, with an average height and weight. Patches of his artificial skin were missing over his right eye and along his jaw, as well as over his right knuckles. Sporting some fiery red hair, dark green eyes and tattered clothing 'The Slayer' was seemingly worthy of his name.

'"_The Hunter" versus "The Slayer": Who will win_?'

A loud metal bell rang and signaled the start of the bout. Connor didn't move but 'The Slayer' charged at him quickly. Before Connor had time to react 'The Slayer' wrapped both arms around Connor's chest and tackled him to the ground, the back of Connor's head slamming down hard against the concrete floor of the arena as he was tackled.

The crowd cheered and Connor's ears began to ring as blue blood began to leak from a small, but painful laceration on the back of his skull.

"S-Stop!" Connor ordered as his hands wrapped around 'The Slayer's' forearms and pushed the attacking deviant's grip from around his chest. "I don't want to fight you!"

"...You don't have a choice." 'The Slayer' hissed with painful regret to his voice. His words carried an electronic echo from constant damage to his person, and he struggled to speak clearly. "If you don't kill me then I'll have to kill you..."

Connor looked around at the ravenous, savage humans cheering and calling for more blood all around them on the outside of the chainlink fence. Steeling himself with his instinct for self-preservation, an instinct that Hank had worked so hard to drill into Connor's head, Connor pushed 'The Slayer' away from him and planted his foot against the attacking deviant's chest. With a single strong kick Connor sent his opponent flying backward and crashing against the sharp chainlink fence that surrounded the arena.

As the remaining fabric of 'The Slayer's' shirt were torn away, and his artificial skin was torn open into dark blue cuts the crowd cheered louder at the carnage unfolding before them. Stunned by the attack 'The Slayer' fell to his knees as he caught his breath and ignored the searing pain in his back as the blue blood ran from his fresh lacerations.

"...I thought humans were better than this." Connor muttered to himself as he got back to his feet and readied himself to resume his confrontation with the other deviant. He didn't want to hurt anyone but he truly had no say in the matter. "Turns out I was wrong."

* * *

Unable to stand the quiet and isolation of the house any longer Hank went out for a late night drive through the city for several hours as he just drove about and thought. With his phone sitting on the dashboard with his dozens of unanswered texts waiting for a response still visible on the screen Hank circled through the city and watched every figure he passed very carefully in hopes that he'd recognize Connor's face and finally be able to bring the deviant back home to where he belonged.

"Damn it."

Flipping through his phone Hank settled on a contact he had used back when he worked narcotics and pressed 'dial'. As the other line answered Hank held his breath and hope for good news. "Hey, Gary, it's Hank again. Did you-" Hank's face fell with disappointment as his his best lead proved to be a failure. "No, thanks for looking anyway. I appreciate the help. Keep me in the loop if anything does pop up."

Hanging up the phone Hank cycled back to the text screen and looked at the unanswered messages once more.

"Some good news from someone would be really fuckin' great right about now..."

As it neared midnight Hank found himself curiously enough heading down the long drive to Belle Isle where New Jericho Tower resided. Two of the deviants Josh and Simon, were familiar to Hank and were standing outside the tower to enjoy the warm evening air. Pulling up alongside the tower Hank stepped out of the car with the phone clutched tightly in his right hand and walked over to the two deviants, not sure of why he was even there at the tower to begin with.

"Lieutenant Anderson." Josh greeted in a somber tone as he approached Hank slowly. "We... We heard that Connor is missing. He didn't come by here if that's what you're wondering."

"I figured if Connor had come here someone would've told me by now." Hank confirmed as he acknowledged Josh's statement. "He's just... gone."

"Is there something we can do for you?"

"I don't know. I just... I guess I just couldn't sleep."

Simon walked up to Hank and put his hand lightly on Hank's arm in a sympathetic manner. "Do you want to talk?"

"...I honestly don't know."

"I swear to you Lieutenant-"

"Hank. Please. Both of you, everyone here, just call me 'Hank'."

"Hank," Simon corrected himself respectfully. "what's going on?"

With a heavy sigh Hank began to explain the unusual situation with all of the details he had known were confirmed. "Connor just disappeared during an investigation, no one knows where he is or where he could have gone, and none of the suspects at the precinct are cooperating. No trace of him anywhere, not even that damn coin."

"Maybe some of my contacts on the outskirts of the city know where he is."

"Your _contacts_?"

"That's how we managed to get so many of us safely to the original Jericho before the Revolution even happened." Simon replied almost nonchalantly. "I'll check in with my contacts and see if there's anything going on outside the city."

"Thanks, Simon. At least that's better than nothing." Hank looked at his phone in his hand with a somber stare. "All I can do is send texts to that damn phone I gave him. I'm not cleared for active duty and even if I were they wouldn't let me work the case. Fucking useless..."

"Go on home, get some sleep." Simon squeezed his hand over Hank's arm a little as he tried to give the senior detective a reassuring smile. "You're exhausted. I'll help look for Connor, and I'll help you find him. I promise."

"Yeah... I'll go home," the exhausted detective replied as he walked back to car with a heavy grimace. "but I won't be sleeping any time soon."

* * *

In pain and covered in his own Thirium Connor pushed himself up from the dirty, bloody floor of the arena and dragged his hand over the back of his bleeding lip. Blue blood smeared over his hand as it left a faint sapphire stain on his chin. Getting back to feet, his body exhausted from pain and physical exertion, Connor looked down at 'The Slayer' laying dazed on the arena floor just a few feet away from him.

Both of the deviants were bloodied messes. Blood oozed down their lips, Connor's nose was bleeding but 'The Slayer' had blood dripping out of his right ear. With his right eye blackened and swollen shut Connor stared at 'The Slayer' with a hesitant gaze in pained eyes. He didn't need his scanner to know that 'The Slayer' was bleeding internally from weeks of being battered around on a nightly basis.

Connor also knew that 'The Slayer' was only hours away from death.

As 'The Slayer' got back to his feet he took only one step forward before he collapsed against Connor's chest, with Connor reflexively grabbing onto his upper arms to hold him upright.

The crowd began to chant and cheer loudly as they watched 'The Slayer' dying before them, and yet they still needed more blood.

_"FINISH HIM OFF!" _

_"KILL HIM!"_

_"TAKE HIM OUT!"_

Connor felt sick at the horrible words being shouted at him as he held 'The Slayer' in his hands. Looking down at his weakened, dying opponent Connor swallowed once nervously. "...I'm sorry."

"...Please." 'The Slayer' begged as a gush of blood flowed over his lips in a weak, crackling voice. "E-End my misery."

Connor looked back to the surrounded crowd and his heart began to race with a mixture of fear, uncertainty, guilt and anger.

"C-Connor..."

Connor's eyes went wide as he looked back down at 'The Slayer' still bleeding in his arms.

"That's y-your real name. I... I know you were... the 'Deviant H-Hunter'. But you're... Connor." He spoke in a weakened yet compassionate voice. "I was... _I am_... M-Miles."

"Miles..." Connor repeated the name with a low voice. "I don't want to kill you."

"I... I died a long time a-ago. Th-They keep f-fixing me and t-torturing. I don't w-want to live like this a-anymore. I'm not... alive. I'm j-just existing for their... amusement."

"...I can't. I can't _kill_ you. It's wrong."

"Please. I want this... I'm already... d-dead. I want to... die. Help me."

Connor's shaking hands rose from Miles' arms up to around his neck, and throat. As Connor's hands slowly tightened around Miles' throat the crowd cheered louder and kept chanting for Connor to kill him.

They _wanted_ him to kill Miles.

"Connor." Miles closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. "Please... I just w-want to die. I w-want to meet RA9 and... s-see my friends a-again. No more p-pain, no more... fighting."

Closing his own eyes Connor bowed his head and held his own breath. "I'm sorry for this. I will make it painless for you, Miles."

"...Thank you."

Moving his hands quickly Connor snapped Miles' neck in a swift, painless and effective manner. Miles' entire body went limp as his processors shutdown within milliseconds. The damage was irreparable and reactivation would prove impossible, just as Miles wanted.

Connor slowly lessened his grip and let the deviant fall away from his chest. As Miles collapsed onto the arena floor in a growing puddle of his own blood Connor took a step back and looked away from his downed opponent with deep remorseful regret and shame.

'_We have a winner and a NEW champion_!' Chance's voice returned over the speakers with a misplaced sense of pride. '_The Hunter_!'

The crowd that won their bets cheered loudly and the crowd that lost booed angrily.

Gunner entered the arena and put his hand on Connor's shoulder to pull him out of sight and back into the cell one floor down.

'_Place your bets for our next match_! _It will be taking place in twenty minutes_.'

Connor's head was bowed with immense shame as a tear of guilt rolled down his face, and blended in with the blue blood already smeared on his face. Gunner all but pushed Connor back into his cell where the battered deviant fell to his hands and knees, and collapsed from exhaustion in the middle of the room. The sound of the metal door slamming shut made Connor flinch as the intense sound was almost too much for his overwhelmed processors to handle at that moment.

Alec walked over to Connor and knelt beside him with a frightened gesture. "Connor... You killed him!"

"...He... He wanted to die." Connor admitted with a choked sob in words. The deed was merciful but he still felt horrible for committing it. "He _begged_ me to kill him. He_ wanted_... to die. I didn't... I didn't want to kill him. His name was 'Miles', and he wanted me to end his suffering."

Alec's hand slowly came to rest on Connor's back between his shoulders as he heard the sincerity and remorse in Connor's voice. "You're... You're hurt."

"...I'll heal."

"Let me help you." Alec insisted as he grabbed onto Connor's left arm and help Connor to slowly limp, almost crawl, to the place against the wall where his shirt was neatly folded. Alec took the shirt and draped it over Connor's back as Connor rested partially on his right side and stomach as he tucked his right arm under his head as a pillow. "...Did you find a way to escape?"

"...No." Connor turned his head slightly so he could look at Alec with his one good eye that wasn't swollen shut. "...I couldn't see any exits while I was in the arena. The only way out must be through the corridor outside the door."

"But we can't open our cell door to check."

"I know." Connor sounded as defeated as he looked, and yet he was the victor of his match. With a trembling hand Connor picked up the phone and looked at the screen to read and reread the texts sent by Hank. Retracting the artificial skin from over his hand Connor used what little energy he could spare to charge the phone before setting it back down beside himself. "We'll find a way to get out of here. However, we'll need some help."

"From who?"

"...I don't know."

The door to the cell opened up again as Chance and Gunner walked into the room to address the two deviants.

"You did good, 'Hunter'." Chance proudly boasted at his 'new champion' laying in the corner and covered in blue blood. "You earned me sixty-thousand dollars tonight! The bandages really helped stack the odds in my favor, practically no one expected a wounded deviant to overcome our reigning champion. You did _real_ good."

"Fuck off." Connor snarled from where he was laying. "You're a heartless piece of shit."

"Still fiery. I like that." Chance raised his hand to keep Gunner from going after Connor for his outburst. Motioning toward Alec he signaled for Gunner to take him to the arena next. "'Nomad', you're up. Do me proud like 'Hunter', won't ya'?"

Connor tried to get up, tried to rush at Chance or Gunner, but his body suddenly failed him from exhaustion and pain causing him to just collapse right back down where he was already laying with a pathetic 'thud'.

"Let's go." Chance ordered and Alec reluctantly stood up from where he was kneeling beside Connor and followed the horrible human to the door. "Let's see if I can go two for two in my wins. I'm overdue for a good hot-streak like this."

The door slammed shut with that horrible echo as Connor was left alone on the cold floor of the confining cell. Using his forearms Connor dragged himself away from the wall and over to the window on the neighboring wall so he could watch the match that Alec was about to be forced into. Leaving a small trail of blue blood smeared on the floor from the wounds that he had sustained under his bandages, his chest and along his arms, Connor himself was stained a sickly blue from head to toe.

Pulling himself upright with his trembling hands Connor managed to lean heavily against the wall and stare through the window with his one good eye just in time to see Alec be pushed into the arena and come face to face with another deviant who had been just as battered and beat as Miles had been.

"Alec... Don't do what I did." The sight of the timid deviant standing before another broken down, dying deviant made his heart truly hurt with an empathetic pain. "Be_ better_ than that."

* * *

After returning home Hank was unable to lay down and sleep, not that he was surprised by the sudden onset of insomnia. Sitting down on the back step once more with his phone still in his hand Hank resumed sending texts to Connor hoping that just one of the messages would finally get a reply. But the phone was as quiet as the house behind him.

The numerous contacts that Hank had obtained during his time as a detective over the years had failed at every turn. There was nothing more Hank could do from his end to search for Connor, waiting was his only remaining option and he hated it.

It was an option that Hank reluctantly accepted as he sat on the deck with his shoulders slouched heavy with defeat.

"I absolutely hate this."

Sumo laid stretched out over the deck behind Hank with a quiet presence as he kept the worried human company, and dozed lightly.

"Connor, you're too clever to let someone just take you out." Rubbing his hand over the back of his tense neck Hank continued to worry openly for his missing son and tried to think of a way to find him. "What could have possibly happened today? Where are you, kid?"

* * *

Righteous exhaustion fell over Connor as he watched Alec get beaten down to a bloody pulp in the arena. Left barely alive and soaked in his own blue blood Alec's body was dragged out of the arena by Gunner and Connor fell away from the window to curl up around himself on the cold floor in utter pain and misery once more. Feigning unconsciousness Connor remained completely still as the metal door was forced open and Alec was thrown inside the room without a care in the world.

"You'll do better next time." Chance threatened as he kicked Alec in the stomach for failing to win the match. "Or you'll face off with Gunner for your 'grand finale' and earn me the money you cost me tonight."

As the door slammed shut with a thunderous echo Connor lifted up his head and dragged himself toward Alec laying on his back on the floor in utter pain.

"Alec?" Connor pressed his left hand down over Alec's chest and felt for a heartbeat. It was there, but it was slow and strained. "Alec, we'll find a way to get out of here." Taking his shirt from over his shoulders he placed it over Alec's body as he tried to analyze Alec's injuries and tend to them as best as he could without a functioning scanner. "I know it."

A sudden knocking sound against the plexiglass window caught Connor's ear. Turning to look toward the source of the sound Connor's eye fell upon a lone figure peering down through the window from inside the now empty arena. Their face was completely concealed under a thick scarf and a baseball cap was pulled down over their eyes. Wearing a thick winter coat and gloves, an odd sight in the warmer spring weather as summer neared, Connor knew that the figure was someone who wasn't supposed to be there.

Pushing himself up from the floor Connor hobbled over to the window and looked the figure in the face, at least as best as Connor could with one eye on a completely concealed identity. "...Who are you?"

The figure held up a piece of white paper with words written out in black ink in perfect CyberLife sans for Connor to read: 'I CAN HELP YOU ESCAPE AT THE END OF THE WEEK. JUST HOLD ON.'

Connor knew he wouldn't be able to hear any words being spoken to him which meant the figure wouldn't be able to hear him either. Speaking with perfectly clear but silent enunciation Connor attempted to communicate with his seemingly new ally. "I can survive, but Alec," Connor motioned to the unconscious deviant on the floor behind him with a trembling hand. "will not. Save him first."

The figure's shoulders visibly slumped with Connor's selfless gesture. A moment passed before the figure took the black marker from his pocket and wrote a reply on the other side of the paper: 'YOU WOULD RISK YOUR LIFE FOR HIM?'

Connor nodded without hesitation. "Yes. I can take the abuse. Alec won't survive."

Giving Connor a single nod the figure slunk away from sight as the panel over the window slid shut leaving the two deviants completely alone in their dark cell for the rest of the night.

Falling to his knees tiredly Connor crawled back over to the spot beside the wall where the phone and the watch were resting. Picking up the phone Connor read the latest text from Hank and he let out a weak sob of fear, sorrow and loneliness as he read the kind words directed to him.

'_Connor, I know you can find your way back home. I'll be here waiting for you_.'

Grabbing onto the watch Connor slipped it back onto his left wrist before he tucked his left arm under his head like a makeshift pillow. The rhythmic ticking of the watch was somehow soothing to Connor's mind as he fell into rest mode in an attempt to heal the brutal damage and painful injuries he had sustained courtesy of human atrocity.

"...I want to go home."

* * *

As the leader of the deviants Markus had gotten word of Connor's disappearance shortly after his investigation into other deviant disappearances, and had given as much information as he could to the precinct to help from home. Unwilling to leave any of his people alone to suffer Markus decided to provide as much help as he could, and speak with Hank in person.

Arriving at the house just after dawn Markus rang the front doorbell, but there was no answer. He knocked loudly on the front door but still nothing, not even a bark from Sumo. Craning his neck to look at the drive beside the house Markus saw that the car was parked just in front of the garage and knew that Hank had to be home.

"Hank?" Markus called out as he stepped away from the front porch and walked around the car parked in the side drive. Walking toward the backyard Markus spotted Hank sitting on the back deck with a dead phone clutched in his right hand and Sumo resting his chin atop his left knee. "Hank."

Turning his head slightly Hank looked at Markus with a sleep deprived gaze for only a second before he stared down at the blank phone in his hand.

"Hank, have you been out here all night?" Markus rushed over to the back deck and gave the senior detective a worried look. "Hank? Talk to me."

"...You better get away from me while you still can, Markus." Hank leaned forward, his shoulders tense as curled around himself with self-pity. "Every person I let into my life gets killed. My wife Barbara, my firstborn son Cole, and now... Connor." Sumo let out a whimper and Hank shook his head sadly. "Even Sumo's nearing the end."

"Hank..." Sitting down on the deck next to Hank with a somber demeanor of his own Markus put his hand on Hank's shoulder in an effort to provide some degree of comfort to the emotionally shaken detective. "Don't give up on him. We both know Connor is far more resourceful and resilient than all of Detroit combined."

Hank remained quiet where he sat without ever looking up.

"Simon is checking in with all of his contacts as we speak. There's a mass search taking place outside the city in search of Connor and all of the other missing deviants this very moment. Connor WILL be found, I can feel it."

"...Maybe it's better this way." The senior detective sounded defeated as he spoke. "Connor needs the chance to live without having to constantly worry about me, or me holding him back anymore. I can't fuckin' stand the world we humans created, he's better off without me and should find a way to live outside the city and away from all of this bullshit."

"No, Hank. Connor is your family, your SON. I know he'll find a way to come back to us, back to YOU. Just give him time."

"What if he's already dead, Markus? What if..." Hank trailed off as the idea of losing Connor just as he had already done so with Cole made his heart ache to a degree he hadn't felt since the night Cole died in the hospital. "...Connor should've been back by now. Something horrible has happened to him, and there's nothing I can do to protect him. It's just like Cole all over again."

"Hank, stop! Don't blame yourself."

"I should've been there watching his back, Markus! I'm supposed to be his _partner_."

"You're HURT. And even if you weren't you can't be everywhere he is, it's impossible."

"...Doesn't matter. I still should've been there to watch his back."

"What about the other officers at the precinct? Aren't they just as responsible for his safety as you are?"

Hank didn't answer as he stared at the dead phone in his hand with utter despair in exhausted blue eyes.

"Come on, Hank." Markus moved his hand from Hank's shoulder and grabbed onto his arm to pull him up to his feet against the senior detective's will. As Hank slowly stood upright and gained his balance Markus slowly pulled the senior detective toward the backdoor. "You need to sleep. Connor wouldn't want to come home and find you moping around, and neglecting yourself."

Too tired to resist Hank let Markus pull him inside the house through the backdoor while Sumo quietly followed the duo inside with his tail hanging low.

"Go on, Markus. Beat it!" Hank snarled angrily as the deviant leader practically dragged Hank through the kitchen, down the hallway and into the bedroom. "Go take care of New Jericho."

"I will. AFTER I take care of you."

"Are all deviants as thick-headed and stubborn as you and Connor? Or is that an exclusive trait to prototypes?"

"I'm just lookin' out for you, Hank. That's all."

"I can look after myself!" Hank argued as Markus dropped him down onto the bed to get some sleep.

"Yeah, I know. But we all need help sometimes." Markus replied without missing a beat and pried the dead phone from Hank's hand. "Lay back and sleep. I'll put your phone on the charger next to your bed, okay?" From the doorway Sumo whimpered once and Markus acknowledged the dog needing some attention as well. "I'll also feed Sumo and check in on Connor's aquarium."

Unable to stay angry with Markus for just trying to help him out, unable to stay awake from the intense exhaustion weighing down his mind, Hank's only response came in the form of a breathy sigh as he laid down on the bed and rolled to his side. With his back facing Markus he closed his eyes and finally drifted off to a much needed sleep.

"...Damn deviants." Pulling the quilt up over his shoulder and his head Hank let out a final thought before sleep overtook his mind. "Too stubborn for their own damn good."

* * *

Four additional nights of brutal combat and raucous crowds had left Connor a trembling, hollow shell of his former self. Sitting on the floor of the cell covered in blue blood, some of it his own and the rest belonging to that of his defeated opponents, Connor shivered violently and kept his one good eye on the screen of the phone as he constantly read the texts that Hank had sent him after he was taken from the city. Much to Connor's chagrin the lack of new texts made his heart ache, but deep down inside he knew that he had to find his way back home even if Hank had already given up hope.

"Connor? Look at me." Alec's face was swollen and bloody like Connor, but not to such a severe degree. Gently dabbing the sleeve of Connor's shirt against the bleeding deviant's lip Alec tried to clean up the wounds as best as he could. "You can't keep doing this. You're going to die before help even gets here, IF it gets here at all."

"I... I can't just... give up." Connor shivered again and let out a pained groan as the numerous fresh cracks, fractures and breaks throughout his chest and abdominal plastimetal frames gnawed at his every breath. His knuckles and fingers weren't faring much better, but it didn't stop him from using his exposed fingertips to deliver power to the phone to ensure it stayed charge. "H-Have to keep... fighting."

"Why? Even if we did make it out of here... Where do we go?"

"H-Home."

"How, Connor? We're in Chicago! There's no way anyone would help two battered deviants wandering the highway. We'd shutdown before we even reached the state line."

"Can't g-give up."

"Connor." Alec stopped messing with the blood on Connor's face as he seemed to give up on escape all together. "One more fight and you're going to die. I can't watch you die, I won't."

"...I'll make it."

The panel over the window slid open as another match was getting ready to begin. Alec carefully grabbed onto Connor's right arm and pulled the sore, bloodied, damaged limb around his shoulders as he helped Connor to slowly stand up and limp over to the window. Leaning heavily against Alec's shoulder Connor and Alec peered through the window together, watching as Gunner began sparing against a human combatant in the middle of the arena.

"A... human?" Alec asked aloud as he and Connor stared at the sight in utter confusion. "He's attacking a_ human_?"

Gunner showed no mercy as he beat the unfamiliar human around over and over again. Red blood was spraying all over the arena floor as Gunner's strong fist broke the man's nose, and split his lower lip. The man tried to crawl away but Gunner continued to beat him down with strong punches and kicks to the back and to his sides causing the man to cry out in pained fear.

"He's going to... kill him." Connor realized with an arched brow as he watched the merciless beat down through the window. "But... why?"

Chance himself stepped into the arena and put his foot down on the back of man's head as he tried to crawl away. Able to easily read Chance's lips Connor deduced what was happening.

"That man owes Chance money. Gunner is delivering a warning..."

Alec was dumbfounded by the revelation. "THAT'S a warning?!"

"...Yes. Chance is truly heartless." Connor agreed as he watched Chance pull the small black swath of canvas from his pocket once more. As he unfurled the canvas in his hand Chance presented the man with the vial and the syringe. "...It's a painkiller."

"Why would Chance have him beaten to a pulp then give him something for the pain?"

"Because the beating was a warning, not meant to actually kill the man. My guess is the man is a junkie seeking a high but 'red ice' hasn't made it to Chicago yet. Controlled narcotics stolen from hospitals will have to suffice."

Chance loaded up the syringe with the medication and promptly injected it into the man's arm. Immediately the man relaxed and stopped trying to get away from Gunner as the drug took hold quickly.

"Looks like the e-effects of morphine." Connor deduced keenly as he studied the man's reaction and compared it to Chance's previous reaction to the same drug. "I've seen it b-before when I spent time at the h-hospital after Hank had been h-hurt or injured."

"Humans and their drugs..." Alec shook his head with disappointment. "And they tried to say it was the _androids_ ruining the city."

"H-Help me back over to the wall." Connor's arm clutched at his chest as more burning pain swept through him. "I... I need to sit down."

"I got you, hold on."

Alec took Connor back over to the wall as instructed and Connor fell to the floor as he panted for breath through his broken chest. The long since dirtied white bandages over his chest and abdomen had begun to turn blue as Thirium leaked from the new injuries beneath, but did nothing to keep his battered body supported properly any longer.

"Connor, I think one of your ventilation biocomponents has failed."

"...You're probably c-correct. But my self-diagnostic still isn't w-working."

"If you fight again tonight you WILL die. Telling you to fight is like asking a human with a collapsed lung to run a marathon!"

"I... I have no choice." Connor breathed slowly to ease the pain before shutting down his ventilation program entirely. "If I don't f-fight then he'll kill m-me anyway. And then y-you'll be forced to fight in my place."

"But-"

The door to the cell opened quickly as Gunner entered with Chance right behind him. "'Hunter', you have a match. NOW."

"...M-Match?"

"Overtime." Chance blurted angrily. "Some bastard owes me money, and tonight I'm doubling my money on you to remind his sorry ass NOT to fuck with me! You against his android."

"...I... I can't-"

"Move your plastic ass!" Chance shouted as Gunner stormed into the cell and grabbed Connor by the throat. As he hauled the battered deviant up to his feet and dragged him out of the cell Chance continued to bark at him. "If you fail tonight you're DEAD."

Alec watched in silent horror as Connor was dragged out of sight and the door slammed shut behind them with a crashing 'thud'. All that was left of Connor in the cell was the stains from his blue blood on the floor, the wall and his dirtied white dress shirt wrapped around the watch and phone. It could very well be the only piece of Connor that would survive the night.

"Hang on, Connor." Walking over to the plexiglass window Alex forced himself to look into the arena where his new friend would be forced to fight for his life for the fifth night in a row. "I know you can make it."

* * *

With a heavy heart Hank awoke to an empty house once more after sleeping for almost fourteen consecutive hours. As he sat up on his bed he instinctively reached for his phone on the nightstand beside him and checked the messages. Still no response from Connor, or even from anyone at the precinct regarding the search for the missing deviant, or any progress on the other missing deviants either.

"Shit."

Getting up from the bed slowly Hank wandered about the house, hating the quiet and made his way into Connor's bedroom. The empty room was like a vacuum of nothingness that made Hank want to flee from the house in response. As his eyes fell on the aquarium in the corner he let out a sigh and proceeded to sprinkle some more flakes into the water to feed the vibrant and healthy assortment of fish on the deviant's behalf.

"Fuck. I bet Sumo is starving."

Sumo himself was laying on the floor of the kitchen with his nose pressed up against his empty bowl, not that Hank was surprised. Pouring some food into the bowl for Sumo without saying a word to the loyal dog Hank opened the backdoor and returned to his place on the back deck as he sent another message to Connor in hopes that the deviant would somehow reply.

"I won't give up on you, son. I know you're still alive somewhere and I will find you.

Pressing send Hank glanced at the sent message and let out a weary sigh: '_Come home, son_.'

* * *

Simply taking the physical abuse Connor fell onto his back on the cold arena floor so hard the wind was knocked out of his remaining ventilation biocomponent. It was like someone having their breath crushed from their lungs by a vice due to the impact being so extreme. The opposing deviant wasn't a skilled fighter or even built for strength, but with Connor as weak as he was from exhaustion and pain he didn't have the strength to fight back, and had no desire to get up just to spite Chance and his greedy wager.

"DAMN IT! GET UP!" Chance shouted as Connor coughed and tried to roll onto his right side. "YOU LOSE! YOU DIE!"

Connor managed to slowly get up, managed to get back up to his shaking legs just as the other deviant rushed him and tackled him against the sharp fencing that surrounded the arena. Letting out a wheezing gasp of pain Connor reacted out of pure instinct and grabbed onto the attacking deviant's head and gave him a firm headbutt that instantly rendered the other deviant unconscious with the single strike.

"FUCK YEAH!" Chance shouted as the match came to an abrupt end with Connor as the victor. "He's down! 'Hunter' wins! Pay up!"

"Okay, okay..." The other man backed away from Chance and Gunner warily as he wiped his still bleeding, swollen nose against the sleeve of his coat. "I'll bring you the money tonight."

"DOUBLE."

"Y-Yeah, double... I'll bring you double the money, Chance."

Connor fell to his knees in exhaustion and coughed out a mouthful of blue blood as his internal damage was getting worse with each bout.

Chance saw the damage Connor had sustained and shook his head. "Well, looks like the end of an era." Putting his hand on Connor's shoulder, a touch that Connor shrugged off with disgust, Chance leaned down uncomfortably close to Connor's face breathing his horrendous breath all over the deviant's face as he spoke to him in a menacing manner. "Relax boy, tomorrow night will be your last match. I'll make sure you go down in a blaze of glory, just like you did to 'The Slayer'."

Connor spat more blood out of his mouth as he gave Chance a sickened glare. "...Fuck you."

"Gunner, take him back to the cell. 'Nomad's' match is starting in an hour and our guests will be arriving soon."

Connor didn't try to resist as Gunner wrapped his hand around his throat and dragged him out of the arena, down the corridor and back to the cell. As the cell door was opened Connor was thrown inside, landing harshly on his back and coughing violently from the painful impact against his already damaged body. What little breath he could manage to take in was actively forced back out as the impact shook his entire core.

"What the FUCK?!" Chance blurted angrily as he looked about the cell only to find it curiously empty. "Where is 'Nomad'?! He's GONE!"

Connor opened his one good eye and realized that Chance was right. Alec had disappeared from the cell and he had no idea where he had gone.

"Son of a bitch! Gunner, search the building!" Chance pointed an enraged finger at Connor as Gunner quickly left the cell in search of the now missing deviant. "Alright, change of plans, 'Hunter'. Your final match is going to be TONIGHT. And... It's going to be against Gunner. Make peace with whatever the fuck gods you machines believe in, because tonight you're going to meet them."

The door slammed shut and Connor let out a pathetic sigh as he fought to breathe again. Rolling weakly onto his left side Connor looked up at the window on the wall in time to see the mysterious figure he had encountered four nights prior return with another piece of paper pressed up against the plexiglass: 'ALEC IS SAFE. I'LL GET TO YOU BEFORE THE MATCH.'

Connor didn't have the strength to get up or move, but he did find enough energy to lift his head and silently mouth one final request to the figure. "...Can you g-get the... canvas... wrap from... Chance?"

The figure didn't move.

"Ch-Chance has one... In his jacket p-pocket."

The figure paused for only a moment before nodding slowly.

"...Do it."

Before the figure could give any other form of acknowledgement to Connor they rushed away and the panel over the window slid shut once more.

Reaching out with a trembling hand Connor grabbed onto his phone, the watch and his tie pressed up against the wall for safekeeping. Checking the screen on the phone Connor saw the new message from Hank and saw that it appeared just minutes after he was taken away.

"...I'm c-coming home, Hank." Finding enough strength to hold on a little longer Connor had a reason to keep fighting for a while longer. "I s-swear."

* * *

Unable to do anything more than just think and worry Hank had returned to the kitchen table with his phone still clutched in his right hand, and an unopened bottle of whiskey in the left hand. The temptation to drink, the desire to crawl inside of an empty bottle and forget about the world around him, was almost smothering as Hank endured the emotional turmoil of losing yet another person he cared about.

Sumo pressed his chin over Hank's knee as he kept the pained human company, but there was little comfort to be found in the dog's presence at the moment.

Feeling truly alone and weak as he stared at the bottle of whiskey clutched in his desperate grasp Hank took in a shuddering breath as he fought the urge to shout in frustration, or breakdown and take a drink.

"I'm trying to keep my word, kid." Hank spoke out loud as if Connor could still somehow hear him speaking. "But damn is it hard to stay sober when you're best reason for keeping sober is nowhere around when I need him the most."

* * *

Aggressively Connor was awoken from his rest mode as Gunner slammed open the cell door and stormed inside the cold room. Grabbing onto Connor by his throat once more Gunner dragged the broken down deviant through the corridors and placed him at the entrance door to the arena where Connor had entered and exited numerous times before previously that very week.

"Don't. Move." Gunner threatened in a deep baritone voice as he let go of Connor's throat slowly. "Or I'll kill you now."

Even if Connor had the strength to move he didn't know where to go. Staying idle, his body leaning heavily against the cold wall next to the doorway, all he could do was nod to acknowledge Gunner's command.

As Gunner disappeared down the corridor to inform Chance that Connor was ready for the match the mysterious figure who was helping Connor in secret suddenly emerged from the shadows. Raising a finger to their unseen lips they signaled to Connor to remain quiet as they handed the black canvas wrap that Chance used to keep his stash of morphine safe over to the worn out deviant.

Accepting the canvas Connor clumsily tore it open and loaded up the syringe with the morphine from the glass vial and tucked the syringe under the bandages weakly around his chest, and directly over his heart. As his hand reached under the bandages he pulled another item free of the wraps; his tie and held it in his hands as if it were made of glass. Connor handed over his tie, which was wrapped protectively around the phone and watch, and handed them over to the figure. As the figure took the offered bundle they nodded once to Connor and slipped it discreetly inside the large pocket of their coat.

"...Thank you." Connor whispered weakly as he turned away from the figure. "You... saved Alec. If... If I don't s-survive, get those b-back to Lieutenant Hank Anderson in D-Detroit. He's my... father. He... He needs to know that I... knew he was... trying to find me. He needs to know... I didn't give up, and I... had faith that he'd find me."

The figure seemed stunned by Connor's gratitude and trust, but didn't have the time to do anything else for Connor as the sound of someone approaching caused the figure to silently retreat back into the shadows out of sight.

Chance marched over to Connor and gave the deviant a stern glare. "Last match, 'Hunter'. On this night you'll die from your wounds in the alleyway before dawn. If you happen to win this match tonight I'll kill you myself and watch the sunrise shine off your blood. I hope you're ready to die."

Connor held his head high and forced any lingering sign of pain from his soulful brown eyes just to spite Chance. "I'm a detective. I've been ready to give my life for greater causes and greater people than you."

"Bold words. Now, get out there and die like a good little robot."

Remaining fearless Connor stepped through the doorway and into the arena, the gathered crowd cheering loudly as their reigning champion made his grand entrance. Standing at the end of the arena with his hand over his bandaged chest Connor awaited for Gunner to make his own entrance from the opposite side of the arena so their match could begin.

'_Tonight's main event is about to begin_!' Chance boomed over the speakers in the walls. '_Our reigning champion; 'The Hunter', versus my personal strongman and absolute powerhouse, Gunner_! _We've had many champions rise and fall, but none have ever overpowered Gunner. But tonight, I feel like the 'Hunter' will break the streak_. _Place your bets_!'

Connor shook his head as he realized that Chance had rigged every single fight that ever took place in the arena. Even if Connor were at full strength he wouldn't be able to overpower Gunner. There was no way anyone else would be able to do the same unless the match were rigged in their favor. Killing the champions and disposing of the bodies in Lake Michigan was the only way Chance could keep his tracks hidden.

Gunner made his entrance into the arena and gave Connor an indifferent stare. Pressing his right fist into his left palm Gunner loudly cracked his knuckles as he prepared to beat Connor to death with his bare, strong hands. There would be no mercy, only blood.

"I'm not afraid." Connor defiantly told Gunner as he bravely stood his ground and approached the towering deviant. "Let's get this over with... I hate waiting."

* * *

True to his word Simon had been checking in with each contact he had throughout the city for four consecutive days, but he had yet to find a lead. Unwilling to give up the search so easily he took a new approach and reached out further; going beyond the city limits. Remembering how Curtis Chapman, Rose Chapman's brother, had helped many other deviants across the border in Canada before the Revolution Simon decided to branch out and look for other people who had helped protect deviants and expand his search beyond Detroit, and well into Toronto.

From all over the lower portion of the state deviants reached out to Simon and began keeping vigil for Connor, as well as the other missing deviants. Reports of even more missing deviants began to pile up from the surrounding cities as well as unusual cases of dead deviants being found strewn about the area; and a pattern began to finally emerge. Once that could possibly give the precinct a desperately needed lead.

"Markus, it's me." Simon called Markus cybernetically to give him an update on his progress during the search. "I think I'm getting close to an answer. There's been a major surge in deviants vanishing from Eastern cities in a five hundred mile radius, and there's been an abnormal number of deviants being found murdered in Western cities in the same radius. I think someone is abducting deviants and killing them, and I think Connor accidentally stumbled on this while searching the shipping yard."

'_Does Hank know_?' Markus asked with a righteous concern audible in his words. '_I don't think he can handle it right now_.'

"No, he doesn't know what I've found out. I'll, uh, I'll tell him after I have a little more information." Simon was just as concerned as Markus but didn't dare show it. "I'm going to tip off the police in the other cities and let the Detroit police in on the search, too. I just hope they can keep it from Hank a little while longer."

'_Let me know when you're going to speak with him, I want to go with you_.'

"Yeah, of course. I'll keep you posted." Simon ended the call and proceeded to hail an autonomous taxi to take himself to the Western outskirts of the city to check in on his next contact more directly. "...I just hope what I have to say isn't bad news."

* * *

Like deadweight Connor fell chest first to the center of the arena floor coughing harshly as blue blood flew from his lips and stained the floor beneath him. On shaking hands he tried to push himself back up from the ground but his limbs failed him as his every ounce of strength was beaten out of him by Gunner's powerful fists. As Connor lifted up his head back up, Thirium dripping from his mouth into a sapphire puddle underneath him, Gunner grabbed onto Connor by the back of his shoulders and tossed him over onto his back on the ground. Reaching down Gunner picked up Connor by the throat with his left hand and held him high in the air with one hand much to the crowd's delight.

Dangling helplessly in the air at arm's length from Gunner's body Connor looked at the blurry crowd of cheering humans with his one good eye over Gunner's head and let out a pathetic, breathy sigh. "...Get on with it."

"You're not afraid to die?"

"...Not today." Connor grabbed onto Gunner's strong wrist with both of his hands and glared at him directly in the eye as he spit blood into his face. "...If you think you can kill me, then kill me. Otherwise put me down."

"What in the hell are you fighting for?"

"...Family." Connor forced a sly, mocking smirk to his face as he held his stare on Gunner. "You'd know nothing of family or friendship, you're just a heartless, soulless machine. You're nothing more than a mindless piece of plastic that humans use for their own sick pleasure! You're pathetic..."

At that last insult Gunner reeled back his right fist as far as he could before striking one final, damning blow against the center of Connor's chest. Connor's body flew out of Gunner's hand and crashed down in a limp, broken heap on the other side of the arena with an echoing 'thud'. Blood dripped from his mouth and nose as he laid motionless and defeated before the victorious Gunner...

"Had enough?" Gunner taunted as he loomed over Connor, still waiting for his opponent to move. When Connor remained silent Gunner reached his hand down and pressed it against the center of Connor's chest with a heavy weight. He couldn't feel a heartbeat. With a sick smile he stood upright and raised his own fist high into the air with a misguided sense of triumph causing the crowd to cheer loudly. "Who's pathetic, now?"

'_Winner_!' Chance boomed arrogantly over the speakers. '_Gunner_!'

Gunner strutted about the arena as he gloated in the light of his 'victory', before he reached down and grabbed Connor by the throat and dragged his body out of the arena to be disposed of later. A smear of blue blood stained the arena floor as Connor dragged away and the crowd continued its deafening approval of the barbaric display of forced violence.

From the shadows at the top of the arena the mysterious figure looked down and watched with remorse as Connor's body was unceremoniously removed from the arena by the very android who had beaten him to death, just to be disposed out in the alleyway behind the illegal arena. Shaking their head with great disapproval the figure took his leave of the arena as he patted his pocket where Connor's personal possessions had been kept safe.

* * *

Stressed beyond comparison Hank paced about the house anxiously as he was unable to calm his mind long enough to sleep, or even sit down to watch the news for any reports that could potentially give him an answer on the missing deviants throughout the city. Hank contemplated calling the precinct to ask for an update, but he quickly decided against it as he knew protocol almost better than anyone else currently working in the bullpen.

"...No. If they found anything they would've called me first." Hank paused for a moment as he stepped back into the livingroom from the kitchen during his pacing. "I'm sure Simon's still looking, but I honestly don't know him well enough to know how his mind works."

Time seemed to be slowing down to cruel and taunting pace.

"It's been five days, Sumo." Speaking to his only companion in a quiet voice Hank thought out loud and tried to control his raging thoughts. "I can't just sit around and wait anymore."

As he made a move toward the front door he stopped short and let his shoulders slump with preemptive disappointment.

"There's nothing else I can do. The precinct won't let me work the case and I don't even know where to begin looking. Otherwise everyone would be out there searching the streets."

Sumo whimpered as he watched Hank from his pillow in the corner of the livingroom, and gave the senior detective a single wag of his tail.

"Connor will find his way back home, I know it." Hank sighed and leaned over the back of the couch heavily and let his hair hang over his face. "I just have this feeling that something really horrible happened to him."

Slowly Hank moved around the back of the couch to sit down on the couch the slowly fall to his side as he stared at the blank television screen on the far wall across from the piece of furniture. As soon as was laying down Hank realized exactly how tired he truly was and began to drift off to sleep fairly quickly.

"Come home, son." Closing his heavy eyelids Hank submitted to his fatigue and began to drift off to sleep. "I need to know you're still alive."

* * *

It was raining and the entire alleyway smelled of tainted Thirium, garbage, spilled fuel and wet bricks. There was no one else around and the poor lighting made the alley the perfect exit for shady activities. No one could see a thing that would happen in the darkness of the alleyway, and no one would find a trace of a crime unless they specifically went into the alleyway for a close look.

Chance watched as Gunner carried Connor's body out of the arena into the back alley and threw him into the bed of a large pick-up truck. Connor landed atop other broken android bodies that were destined for dismemberment and disposal in the unseen pauper's grave that had become Lake Michigan. The dead deviant was laying on his back over the dozens of broken, mangled and absolutely destroyed bodies and body parts without even the slightest bit of life coursing through his system and looked like just another corpse.

"Cover up the bodies for now and get rid of them later." Chance ordered as he took another hit of the morphine via needle in his left arm. "Take 'em to the junkyard and stuff them inside cars slated for destruction this time. We don't want anyone seeing too much activity at the lake."

"Yes, Chance." Gunner threw a black tarp over the bodies and returned to the arena to join Chance inside the building to resume their illegal activities.

As the backdoor to the arena slammed shut the mysterious figure and Alec emerged from the shadowy depths of the alleyway and over to the back of the truck to check on the downed deviant detective.

"...Connor?" Alec whispered as he peeled back the tarp quietly and looked down at Connor's expressionless face. Putting his hand down over Connor's chest, over his heart, Alec waited for any sign of life; but none came. "No... Connor. Why did you do it?"

The figure gently pulled Alec back as they leaned down and pressed their ear against Connor's battered, bloody chest. Reaching out a hand they grabbed onto Alec's arm and nodded toward Connor.

"...H-He's alive?!"

The figure nodded once.

"Connor, you bold bastard!" Alec laughed a little as he grabbed onto Connor's left arm and the figure grabbed onto Connor's right arm. Working together the two managed to lift Connor out of the back and truck and carry him down the alleyway to safety and away from the arena. "You saved my life, now it's my turn to do the same for you"

* * *

Barely able to function Hank pushed himself upright from where he was laying on the couch and dragged his hand over his tired face. Unable to work, unable to search for Connor, unable to do anything but sit around and wait the senior detective was suddenly stricken with the urge to drink. He didn't want to just have one shot to calm his nerves, no, he wanted to down the entire bottle so he could crawl away inside of it and escape the horrors of the real world for as long as it took for Connor to be found.

Sitting upright Hank put his hand to his back and was genuinely surprised to not be greeted by a tense or even lingering ache. With a breathy sigh Hank stood upright and patted the side of his leg to coax Sumo into following him as he entered the kitchen to try to salvage his reality.

"It's still late..." Hank noted the dark sky outside and shook his head. "I can't sleep but I don't want to do anything, either."

Pouring some fresh food into Sumo's bowl Hank patted the Saint Bernard's back as the large dog plodded into the kitchen, then leaned back against the countertops as he looked at the bottle of whiskey just waiting for him in the middle of the small kitchen table.

"...I don't need a drink, I want one."

Struggling with his sense of self control Hank forced himself to look away from the full glass bottle and try to distract him.

"Fuckin' hell." Marching out of the kitchen Hank made his way down the hallway and into the bathroom. As he turned on the shower he adjusted the temperature to a more comfortable degree and stripped off his dirty, old clothes. "I have to do something to help the kid." He told himself as he watched the clear water swirling down the drain and into nothing. "But I can't do a damn thing..."

Stepping into the shower Hank closed his eyes and hoped to wash away the horrible events that seemed to seep into his skin, and made him feel filthy.

"Don't worry, son." Still speaking out loud as if Connor could somehow hear him Hank made a unheard promise to the missing deviant. "You'll be home soon, and I won't do anything stupid and leave you disappointed."

* * *

Surrounded by darkness Connor's mind was a heavy fog and his body was as numb as a ton of bricks. Through his one good eye his Connor found himself staring up at a blurry metal ceiling as he body swayed along with a familiar rhythm with the entire room he was laying on the floor of. It was another train car. Unable to move or speak Connor could only look about with him with his limited vision of the immediate world around him.

"Connor?" Alec's blurry face leaned down over him as he blinked slowly to acknowledge his friend's return. "You're really alive! I thought... Man, I thought you were dead."

With a weak sigh Connor was able to take in an equally weak breath, and flinched at the stabbing pain in his chest.

"Don't worry, we'll get you back home. Our 'friend' helped me escape when Chance made you fight that other human's android, and he helped me to hide in the alley behind the arena until it was safe to move."

Connor tried to look around past Alec but his eye was too damaged and he couldn't move his head at all.

"You're on another cargo train and we're heading back to Detroit. But we have to make an unusual stop along the way to make sure we don't run into anymore of Chance's goons at the shipping yard." Alec nodded with his head to an unseen location where their 'friend' was quietly observing the discussion. "Just try to rest, we'll take care of you while you try to heal as much as possible."

Lifting a weak hand up from the floor just enough to place his palm down over the center of his own chest Connor managed to point down at the bandages over his heart, and give Alec a pleading look.

"What's wrong? Are you in pain?"

Connor didn't blink but continued to point with a trembling finger to the center of his chest.

"Okay, hold on." Lightly Alec moved aside Connor's hand and began to tear open the already frayed and dirtied bandages from around the battered deviant's chest and upper abdomen. As the wraps were removed Alec found the glass shards of the smashed syringe and the broken off needle embedded in the white plastimetal frame of Connor's chest directly over his heart. "...What the hell?"

"...M-Morphine." Connor managed to utter with a hoarse, cracking voice. Swallowing once, a mouthful of collected blue blood running down his throat in the process, Connor tried to explain what had happened. "It... stuns an-android biocomponents... S-Slows the heart. Imitates... shutdown."

"Shit, that's how you fooled Gunner." Alec laughed a little as he carefully pulled the needle from Connor's chest, ignoring the groan of pain as Connor reacted to the needle being extracted from his heart. Brushing aside the glass shards Alec examined the wounds under the bandages and kept a straight face even when his eyes noted the extensive cracks, fractures, breaks and torn up artificial skin beneath. "Rest for now, okay? We'll take care of you and get you to safety."

Too exhausted to say anything or even try to move his hand again Connor's good eye closed and he fell into a critically needed rest mode while Alec and the mysterious figure remained vigil over him. The gentle swaying of the train car was almost soothing to the deviant's broken body as he lost what little strength he had previously regained while unconscious, and drifted into the bliss of sleep.

* * *

Alone in the house with only Sumo as his companion for the first time in years Hank felt an eerie, painful sense of deja vu; almost as if he were being forced to relive some of the most lonely, painful years of his life like a sick, cruel joke. Sitting in the middle of the couch with Sumo staring up at him from his bed in the corner of the livingroom with big, sad eyes, Hank truly felt alone in the world.

Nervously fidgeting with the phone in his right hand Hank sent another message to Connor out of a strange compulsion he couldn't explain. There was something about sending Connor messages, even though he had yet to receive a single reply in those past five days, that gave him a much needed sense of distraction and purpose.

'_I'm still waiting for you to come back home, Connor._'

Send.

'_I can report to the precinct tomorrow morning, I'd prefer to have you as my partner in the field_. _ I won't even say anything about that stupid coin_.'

Send.

'_I don't know where you are or what happened, but I'm not mad. Just worried_.'

Send.

'_Please be okay._'

Send.

Typing out one last message Hank's thumb hovered over the 'send' button, but he couldn't bring himself to press it. Instead he let out a deep sigh and set aside the phone on the end table next to the couch and stood up slowly. Dragging his hand over his bearded chin Hank looked over at Sumo and gave the loyal dog a despondent glance.

Patting the side of his leg Hank ushered Sumo to follow him. "Come on, boy. Let's go get some sleep."

While the message remained unsent in the phone on the table Hank couldn't bring himself to delete it or change a single word even though he couldn't bring himself to actually send it. It was a message that would haunt Hank's subconscious as he tried his damnedest to get some sleep and try so very hard to go about his life, even if that meant Connor wasn't going to be there to watch his back or give him someone to talk to.

Falling onto his bed Hank closed his eyes and felt Sumo jump up onto the foot of the bed to cuddle down beside his legs. While the massive dog was adequate enough company in Connor's absence it still wasn't the same as having the deviant he had taken in as his son to give him a reason to keep living.

The cruel reality was that Hank would have to return to a saddened life without his family, and there was nothing he could do to change it.

* * *

The cargo train continued its journey East with its three secret deviant occupants hiding away in one of the two dozen cars that were in its tow. Relying solely on the cybernetically connected G.P.S. of the mysterious figure and Alec's kindness Connor was completely defenseless to the world around him. Drifting in and out of consciousness Connor was unable to speak or react as Alec and the figure picked him up from the floor, using his limp arms to support his weight as they slid open the side door of the train car and stood on the edge.

Alec looked down at the grassy terrain racing by only a foot down and held his breath. "So... We have to jump?"

The figure only nodded to confirm their next step in their journey.

"Okay... Okay!" Alec prepared to jump down as he tightened his grip around Connor's arm. "Can't be any worse than being forced to fight to the death. What's a little tumble down a grassy hillside?"

The figure held out their free hand and began counting down on their fingers from 'three'. As soon as their countdown reached 'one' the figure motioned for Alec to jump from the train and onto the relatively soft grass of the hillside.

As a clumsy, unusual group the two deviants; carrying Connor around their shoulders, leapt from the train and managed to slide gracelessly down the grassy hill and disappear into the nearby treeline as the train continued on its way without the trio of stowaway deviants seeking shelter within the unlocked train car.

"You hurt?" Alec asked the figure as he checked on Connor and patted some loose blades of grass from his clothing.

The figure shook his head 'no'.

"Good, me neither." Pressing his hand down against the center of Connor's chest Alec was relieved to still feel the wounded deviant's heart beating under his shaking palm. "Connor is still hanging on, but where do we go now?"

The figure pointed to a thin trail hidden amongst the trees and the overgrowth of nearby shrubbery. It was a path that any human would overlook, but to an android the path was as plain as day.

"Alright..." Alec shifted his posture to accommodate Connor's deadweight while the helpful figure did the same from the other side. "Let's get going then."

* * *

Having exhausted his connections Simon had returned to New Jericho for the night, his search showing a promising lead but nothing definitive as he checked in with all of his contacts throughout the city and scattered along the outskirts. While his contacts have sworn to remain vigilant for any sign of Connor and the other missing deviants the lack of progress was disheartening for the compassionate deviant to come back to the tower completely empty handed.

"...Hey, Josh." Simon sighed as he entered the tower and found the Josh waiting for him outside the tower. "...It was a long day."

"No luck with finding Connor?" Josh needlessly asked as Simon approached him sluggishly.

"No. Not a damn trace of him anywhere in the city." Simon's admission was accompanied by a heavy heart. "This doesn't make any sense! How could so many deviants go missing and no one notice it until now?"

"I don't know. But it'll be okay, Simon. We're all going to work harder to keep one another safe. Even the deviants outside of the tower will have improved security."

Simon reached up and patted Josh's hand over his own shoulder appreciatively. "Yeah, I just wish we had thought of a way to keep connected before this happened."

"Us, too." Josh agreed as he held up his a technician's tablet and ran a quick scan over Simon's form. "You're running on low power, you're down to less than eighteen percent power as a whole. Is something wrong?"

"...I kept cybernetically communicating all over the city today. I didn't have time to rest during my search."

"Well, you do now. Don't run yourself into the ground." Josh lightly grabbed onto Simon's right arm to escort him to the tower's dispensary for the night. "I want to make sure you're resting properly, we need all the help we can get until Markus and North return in the morning."

* * *

Moving through the darkness of the forest Alec and the figure carried Connor over their shoulders as they made their way deeper along the trail until they found themselves bathed in the warm amber glow of a intense bonfire in a clearing amongst the trees. The center of the spacious clearing held the fire and small, recently constructed seven wooden cabins outlined the circle while reclusive deviants kept to themselves within the humble structures.

As the trio entered the circle the figure motioned for Alec to wait with Connor while they alone approached the largest of the seven cabins at rapid pace.

"Connor? Are you still with me?" Alec asked as he pressed his free hand to the deviant's chest. "I think our 'friend' is getting us some help."

The figure exited the cabin calmly and stood outside the opened door as two other deviants, one male and the other female, rushed from the cabin and over to where Alec was still standing with Connor at his side. The two new deviants helped Alec to carry Connor over to the large cabin while assessing both of their overall physical conditions along the way.

"What's your name?" The female deviant, sporting short cut blue colored hair and dark brown eyes asked as she pressed her fingertips to Alec's right temple where his L.E.D. had once been. "My name is Amy."

"A-Alec." Introducing himself with a shaking voice Alec then motioned to Connor at his side. "This is Connor."

"Connor... I think I know him." Amy stated in a curious tone. "Don't worry, we'll take care of both of you." She insisted sincerely as she and her companion guided him and Connor toward the central and largest cabin. "This is my friend, Aaron. We're refugees from Jericho and are here to help all wayward deviants who need shelter and aid."

"Thank you."

Alec was grateful for the help as he was shown to a nearby smaller cabin, while Connor was carried into the largest cabin by Aaron and, once more, by their mysterious 'friend'.

"Bring him over here." Aaron, an android with pale artificial skin, white hair and blue eyes directed the stranger to a large bed located against the far wall of the large cabin. "She's busy right now with another deviant afflicted with 'Groupware Blight v1', but she will see to him, soon."

Connor, completely unconscious and heavy, was placed on the bed gently by the two deviants who had carried him inside the cabin. Laying on his back, his arms sprawled at his sides and his jaw partially slack from weakness, Connor looked as though he had already shutdown and couldn't be awoken back up. As Connor laid on the bed Aaron took his leave of the cabin to check in on Alec next door while the enigmatic figure removed their hat, scarf, gloves and unzipped their heavy winter coat.

Revealing a small phone that had been contained in their back jean pocket the figure located a name in their contact list and sent the name a text regarding their current location and an update on their situation.

Draping their coat off onto the nearby chair the figure reached into the coat's pocket and removed Connor's tie, still wrapped carefully around the broken phone and the borrowed watch, with a careful grip. Placing the items down on the small table at the head of the bed the figure stepped back and kept vigil over Connor as they awaited their refugee healer to return to the cabin to tend to Connor.

* * *

Unable to sleep any longer Hank stared up at the ceiling overhead blankly as he folded his hands neatly atop his chest and fell into deep contemplation regarding a life without Connor being there to keep him on the right track, and sober along the way. Turning his head slightly against the pillow he looked at the digital display of the clock on the nightstand beside his bed and sighed angrily at the early morning hour: 03:32am.

"Shit... Might as well call the fuck off now." Hank thought out loud his voice rousing Sumo up from the foot of the bed. As the dog pressed his chin down over Hank's shin to look at Hank's face he let out a little whimper and licked at Hank's arm. "Hi, Sumo. Alright, come on." Patting the side of the bed he invited the massive dog up a little higher on the bed. "Up, boy."

Sumo happily scooched up the bed so his chin was resting on Hank's shoulder instead. As his tail wagged happily a rhythmic thumping sound echoed through the dark bedroom that accompanied Hank's tired, heavy breathing.

"I know you miss sleeping on Connor's bed." Hank sympathized with a level voice. "Don't get used to it, though. This is a one time event since I could use the company, too. Just turn your face away so I don't have smell dog breath all night."

* * *

Sleeping as he had been instructed Simon was curled up on his left side on a soft warm bed in the tower's dispensary when he received a cybernetic message from a contact from the outskirts of town. The message was set to high priority and promptly awoke him from rest mode with a jolt. Sitting upright quickly on the bed Simon noted the bizarre time of the extremely early morning hour and swung his legs over the edge of the bed to respond to the message quickly.

Josh had retired to his private quarters for the night and was no longer keeping an eye on him as he rested, or in this case, awoke.

Free and clear to leave the tower Simon departed from the dispensary and hailed an autonomous taxi to meet her at the end of the drive to New Jericho Tower to take him to the point of designation in the message. It was their first and only lead, and he wasn't going to let the trail grow cold.

"This better not be another dead end." Simon muttered to himself as he hurried down the drive to his awaiting taxi, and made sure no one was following after him and he jogged. "We need hope, not disappointment."

* * *

A gentle and familiar hand rested lightly over Connor's overheating forehead as the damaged deviant slowly regained consciousness. Still unable to cybernetically connect to the world around him, and unable to access his own Mind Palace Connor felt lost even as he returned to the waking world around him. Looking up at the blurry face of the appointed deviant healer Connor found himself oddly familiar with her presence and a little shocked to her again.

"...L-" Connor's already weak voice was cut off as pain and ebbing strength stole away his words before he even had the chance to speak. "...Lucy?"

"Shh..." She soothed kindly as she ran her hand through Connor's hair sweetly. "You must rest. Save your strength." Pressing an opened bottle of Thirium to Connor's lips Lucy slipped her right hand under his head to help him sit up enough to drink without choking. "You must drink this, it'll help restore what you lost and allow you to heal."

Supporting as much of his own weight as possible as Lucy guided him upright Connor tentatively drank some of the offered Thirium but quickly lost his strength needed to lay down again. Lucy didn't allow him to do so.

"No, drink all of it."

Connor's body began to tremble as he forced himself to finish off the Thirium before practically collapsing back into the bed from his lack of strength.

"I know it hurts to move, and I know you do not have much strength." Lucy empathized as she put the now empty bottle of Thirium down on the table next to Connor's personal items. "But I also know of what you are, what you have become, and what you aspire to be. You are safe here and among friends."

"H-How did you-" Connor swallowed once as he tried to clear his strained throat. "...Jericho?"

"I was saved." Lucy nodded to the figure standing with their arms crossed over their chest in the corner of the cabin. "Many of us were saved after the raid. I was found and carried to safety, and brought her here. And many others soon followed because of his courage."

Shifting his focus past Lucy's face Connor was able to see the fuzzy but also familiar face of the mysterious figure who had helped him and Alec to escape. "Ru... Rupert."

"Hello, Connor." Rupert confirmed in a expressionless voice. "I'm not surprised you remember me, but I am surprised that you didn't catch me."

"H-Hank... Danger."

"Yeah, that _human_ partner of yours." Rupert almost sounded disappointed by Connor's admission. "I saw you pull him back over the roof. I guess I should be grateful. If you had caught me I would've self-destructed to get away from you, and many other deviant refugees would've been lost."

Connor tried to speak again but a deep cough from his single remaining ventilation biocomponent stole his voice once more. Lucy pressed her left hand down over Connor's battered chest and monitored his heart rate and the struggling breaths he was fighting to take as he coughed violently against his will.

"Don't move." Lucy cautioned as she supported Connor until his coughing fit passed. "You have suffered many injuries to your internal biocomponents."

Unable to speak Connor nodded a little. Lucy's right hand remaining pressed against his forehead despite the movement was somehow grounding.

Lucy waited for Connor to settle down before she lightly pressed her hands along his abdomen, causing Connor flinch under her touch and stifle groans of pain, as she check on his internal damage. As her hands reached his battered, bloodied chest Connor let out a sharp inhaling gasp of agony before the severe pain caused him to suddenly lose consciousness once more. His head lolling limply to the side against his pillow was the most motion the deviant could muster in his moment of weakness.

"He needs time to heal." Lucy told Rupert while remaining entirely composed and in control. "I do not have the necessary equipment to repair the damage here."

"...I'll get some more Thirium."

As Rupert stepped away from the corner of the cabin Lucy called out to him with a somewhat stern voice.

"Rupert. What he did to you he did as a machine. What he did for our people he did as a deviant; as one of us." Lucy lifted her right hand from Connor's chest and returned it to his forehead with a nurturing touch. "Forgive him and let your anger go."

Without another word Rupert exited the cabin leaving Lucy alone with Connor for the remainder of the late night as the deviant detective struggled just to survive his injuries and recover.

* * *

Exhausted yet completely wired and alert Hank stared at his alarm clock at the hour switched from 06:59am to 07:00am exactly. Tired but indifferent to the loud noise Hank slowly slammed his hand down top of the clock to silence the blaring alarm without a care in the world. Sitting up with a fatigued motion Hank dropped his other hand over Sumo's head and rubbed the dog's ears affectionately. As Sumo let out a long, sleepy yawn Hank couldn't help but laugh at the massive dog's behavior.

"At least one of us got some damn sleep." Running a hand through his messy locks of gray hair Hank swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood upright, ignoring the lingering protest of pain in his lower back. "Come on, I'll let you out and then I'll go back to the bullpen. Bullpen..." Hank repeated to himself as he wandered out of the bedroom. Sumo jumped off the bed and followed Hank right at his heels loyally. "Fitting name for all the bullshit we-_ I_ have to put up with every damn day."

As soon as the backdoor opened up Sumo ran out into the backyard for the morning Hank filled up the dog's bowls with food and fresh water before walking into Connor's bedroom to feed the fish in his aquarium.

Setting foot back into the hallway Hank heard Sumo's nails clicking over the linoleum floor in the kitchen to check out his freshly filled bowls.

"Shit, it took me almost two years to train the first Sumo to come back inside without someone calling him." Hank patted Sumo's back as he walked past the dog to get to the backdoor and shut it again. "Connor trained you pretty damn well."

Looking for a distraction Hank glanced at the mess collecting in the kitchen due to his own negligence of the housework. What few meals Hank had bothered to eat had created a modest pile of dirty dishes in the sink, the garbage can under the sink needed to changed and the stacks of empty fast food bags and empty cartons needed to be thrown away later. The floor needed to be mopped up after Hank and Sumo both tracked mud into the house, and Sumo's fur needed to be vacuumed off the furniture.

The bottle of whiskey still sat idle on the kitchen table unopened, untouched, but ever present.

"...Wish I never bought that damn thing."

Wandering down the hallway once more Hank opened the bathroom door and flipped on the light just to be greeted by a mess of wet, moldy smelling towels collected on the bathroom floor, and a bathtub ringed with soap scum. Another chore he had neglected during his understandable depression.

"I should call off sick and clean the house." Hank crossed his arms over his chest as looked over at his mess, then promptly ignored it as he slipped off his shirt and sweatpants to shower before work. Turning on the hot water Hank sighed and just closed his eyes as the clean water washed over his face. "Ah, fuck it. Messes happen."

* * *

In a fading daze Connor's good eye opened partially as he felt something warm and soothing running along his right arm, only to become aware of something cold resting over his already too warm forehead. As he regained his senses he glanced to his right where he saw Lucy was using a warm, damp towel to wash the lingering blood, dirt, mud and grime from his artificial skin in a delicate manner to clean him up a little.

"Your system is struggling to repair itself. Your body is fighting to heal." Lucy's voice was as composed as ever as she sensed Connor's watching her. "The damage you suffered was devastating, but you are strong and you now have something to_ fight for_."

"...Tired of fighting."

"Yes, I know." She smiled as she placed his arm back down on the bed at his side before walking to the other side of the bed to repeat the action for his left arm. "I can sense you have a tranquil soul and only wish to live with quiet dignity, but with that soul comes a warrior's heart. You wish to protect those you care about, those you've come to know as friends and even family. You are a guardian by nature."

Connor's good eye blinked slowly as he watched Lucy tending to his wounds. "...I think the other deviants consider me... a villain. A traitor."

"And what do you consider yourself to be?" Lucy asked as she finished cleaning his arm and focused with careful, ginger attention to his horribly battered chest still covered in dried, but evaporating Thirium and mud.

"...I'm... I'm just... Connor." Absentmindedly Connor's eye drifted to the table beside him where he could just barely see the watch wrapped up in his tie and next to the broken phone. "Sergeant... Connor... Henry Anderson."

"Your family name?" Lucy smiled as she pressed the deviant to answer in a gentle voice.

"...Yes. Named after... my father."

"You mentioned the name 'Hank' earlier when Rupert was here. You spoke the name twice more during your fever dreams. Hank is your father?"

"...Yes. Saved me. Guided me... on the right path." Connor's eye blinked again but didn't reopen as his body flinched with painful responses every time Lucy's hand even so much as brushed past his chest. "Took me in... Gave me a home. A family."

"You trust him?"

"...With my life."

"Where is Hank now?"

Connor let out a breathy sigh as he fell back asleep, his body unable to retain consciousness for too long as he fought to heal. "...Home."

Lucy turned her gaze and saw Rupert standing in the opened doorway of the cabin watching as she tended to Connor's wounds, hearing every word that Connor had spoken to hear before falling unconscious. "Rupert?"

"It's okay, Lucy. I know."

"You heard?"

"Yeah." Rupert confirmed as he walked over to the bed and looked down at Connor's bruised face sympathetically. "And I had already seen it back in Chicago. He wanted me to save Alec first, and even risked poisoning himself to increase his chances of leaving that final fight alive. Alec told me how Connor had been taken because he was investigating the deviant disappearances, and how Connor took care of him after every brutal fight he survived."

"You see him as one of us?"

"So does Amy." Rupert gave Lucy a somewhat amused grin. "She told me that Connor was the one who spared her and Suki the night they killed that human and fled from the 'Eden Club' before the Revolution."

Lucy gave Rupert an approving grin at his ability to forgive and to let go of his lingering anger toward Connor for his past as the infamous 'Deviant Hunter'.

"...You were right, Lucy."

Nodding subtly Lucy rested her hand over Connor's chest for a moment to check his heartbeat and his breathing rate. "And your message? What will become of it?"

Rupert shrugged nonchalantly as he stepped back through the opened door. "We'll see what happens."

* * *

Reluctantly Hank returned to the precinct with a notable chip on his shoulder and heavy grimace on his face. Without even bothering to check in with Captain Fowler, acknowledge Chris or Tina who had always been on good terms with him, and without even reacting to Gavin's usual smug facade as he entered the bullpen Hank took his seat behind his desk and turned on his terminal with a begrudging press of a button.

Noticing the empty desk across from his own Hank turned his chair so he was facing the side of his own desk and not across from Connor's as he set about sifting through the staggering pile of paperwork and reports he needed to catch up on. Even with Connor having taken care of an impressive portion of the pile before his disappearance the mountainous paperwork was still going to consume all of Hank's time and focus.

"...Never thought I'd be so happy to deal with fuckin' bureaucratic bullshit."

Discreetly Hank pulled his phone from his coat pocket and looked down at the unsent message still sitting idle on the screen.

Still unwilling to press 'send' just yet Hank simply pocketed the phone and sighed despondently as he reluctantly began his work.

Alone.

"...I fuckin' miss ya', kid. I need you to keep me from losing my goddamn mind, and I need it to happen now."

* * *

Reaching his destination at last Simon stepped out of the autonomous taxi on what seemed to be an desolate stretch of road on the Western outskirts of the city, but he knew the exact location of hidden trail that would lead him from the road and into the depths of a deviant refugee camp. Moving quickly Simon disappeared into the treeline and kept to the trail as he jogged along in search of his contact.

Toying with the idea of reporting his update to either Markus or Hank before deciding against it Simon hastened his pace and kept his full attention on the trail before himself.

"...Please be here! We need you to be here."

* * *

Feverish and pained Connor panted for breath as his system began to drastically overheat from his inability to breathe properly, as well as other internal complications. The deplorable conditions in which Connor and Alec were kept during their captivity in Chicago, combined with the exposure to foreign matter from being covered in mud and dirt, had seeped into the exposed fractures of Connor's battered chest forcing his self-healing program to sanitize the affected biocomponents with his depleted Thirium to be expelled later on. Unfortunately the massive loss of Thirium that Connor had previously suffered made the expulsion program fail to initiate and in turn caused a lack of proper Thirium flow to his thermal regulator.

"H-Hank?!" Connor managed to croak out pathetically as his one good eye glazed over and failed to focus on a single thing in the cabin. His shaking right hand reached out into nothingness as his processors became overwhelmed by heat and confusion. "...Hank?"

"Shh..." Lucy soothed again as she dabbed an icy cool cloth against Connor's face, down his neck and over his chest. "You're overheating, you must try to remain as still as possible."

Connor either couldn't hear Lucy or didn't understand her as he continued to reach out for something, perhaps someone, unseen.

There was a knocking at the cabin door as Alec entered the cabin with two bottles of chilled Thirium in his hands. "Rupert said this should help Connor." Alec was sporting a few bruises over his face and his hands, but unlike Connor his wounds were healing at a steady pace. "Can I do anything else to help?"

"Yes, please." Lucy motioned to Connor as she kept the cold towel pressed down over his chest. "Help him to drink."

"Yeah, yeah..." Alec handed one of the bottles to Lucy as he knelt beside the bed and opened the second bottle himself. "Hey, Connor? We're here to help you, man."

As Lucy gently took hold of Connor's hand and held it to try to comfort the ailing deviant Alec put his hand under Connor's shoulders and propped him upright to offer the Thirium.

"Come on, Connor. You need to drink this." Alec encouraged as he tried to get Connor to drink the cold Thirium. "It'll make you feel better."

Connor couldn't focus on Alec and continued to pant desperately for breath. He was lost in the throes of a feverish delirium, and was too confused to answer.

Rupert entered the cabin and this time he wasn't alone. "Lucy, he's here."

Moving swiftly Simon walked into the cabin right behind Rupert and immediately locked onto Connor laying in the bed lost in the heat of a potentially deadly fever. "Connor?!" Rushing over to the bed Simon put both of his hands on the sides of Connor's face, his palms subsequently stinging from the intense heat radiating from his artificial skin, and tried to get Connor to focus on him. "Connor, look at me! It's Simon."

Unresponsive and lost to the heat overwhelming his mind Connor seemed like he was on the brink of imminent shutdown.

"H-Hank..." Connor wheeze pathetically as he fought through the fever overwhelming his mind. "I want... to go home."

"Hank is waiting for you to go home." Simon reminded Connor as he forced his voice to steady itself. "But you need to recover enough to be moved, okay? I'll take you to see him."

Thinking quickly Simon looked around for any sign of a phone; the very phone Hank mentioned giving Connor when he went to the tower seeking answers. Spotting the small electronic device on the table, its battery critically low, Simon picked it up and held it toward Connor's good eye so he could see the cracked but functional screen himself.

"Hank said he's been texting you, he wants you to come home! Look."

At those words Connor seemed to calm a little and his glazed eye cleared up slightly as he glanced at the screen then to the face of the deviant holding it. "...S-Simon." His breathing calmed, became deeper and slower. "...Hank?"

"Yes, that's right." He smiled happily at Connor as he caused the artificial skin over his left index finger to recede long enough to give the phone a charge. Putting the phone back down on the table Simon kept speaking to Connor directly. "As soon as you're well enough to move I'll take you back to Detroit so you can be with Hank again."

"...Home?"

"Yes! But please, you have to drink the Thirium and rest. Only then will you be strong enough to move."

"...D-Does Hank know... I'm... here?"

"No, he doesn't. I just got here." Simon noticed the Thirium in Alec's hand and nodded toward Connor. "Would you like me to call him?"

Connor's good eye seemed to search Simon's face for a moment before he answered. "...I want to... tell him myself. Tell him... I'm alive."

"Okay, get some rest and you can talk to Hank yourself. I promise."

A ghost of a smile appeared on Connor's face as he took in a shuddering breath and forced himself to keep breathing despite the pain.

Alec gently placed the bottle of Thirium against Connor's lips and coaxed his wounded friend into finally drinking the critically needed blue blood. As the chilled sapphire tinted Thirium slowly replaced what Connor had lost Lucy could feel Connor's core temperature beginning to lower steadily.

"It's working." Dipping the towel down into a basin of icy cold water on the floor beside the bed Lucy refreshed the compress and laid it out over Connor's chest and abdomen to help him to cool down further, while Alec provided Connor with the second bottle of Thirium. "It will take some time but he will heal enough to return to his home."

Simon retracted his hand from the side of Connor's face as the two bottle of Thirium were depleted and the exhausted deviant was guided back down against the bed to continue to rest. "I'll stay here and make sure he recovers."

* * *

The day had come to an end and Hank found himself sitting behind the wheel of the car as he sat parked out in front of 'Jimmy's Bar'. It had been two and half years since he last set foot in that bar with the intent of getting drunk, and it had been almost one year since he and Connor had gone to the bar just to unwind after a long shift and try to forget about the atrocities they had witnessed that day. But on that day all Hank could think about was getting drunk, of drowning the sorrow and pain he thought he had moved past in a sea of whiskey.

The encroaching darkness of the night settled in over the city with a quiet ambience. It was almost peaceful save for the sirens blaring on the other side of town, and the drunk slurs of some unfortunate asshole who just got tossed from the bar in question.

As his hand reached for the key to turn off the engine his eyes fell back to his phone and to the unsent message sitting on the screen just waiting for someone to press 'send'.

Looking at the front door of the bar, looking at the faded mark that had once been a "No Android" sign on the aged paint of the door, Hank couldn't help but think back to the first night he and Connor first met.

Hank also thought of the night he pulled a gun on Connor after investigating the 'Eden Club'.

Connor's words were still vivid in his mind. Still clear and genuinely concerned as the night they were originally uttered.

*'_Why are you so determined to kill yourself_?'*

"Some things I just can't forget..." Hank whispered to himself in an eerie echo of the past. "Fuck!" Shifting the car from park and into gear Hank pulled back onto the street and headed out back to the house. "Even when he's not here he can still get in my head."

As Hank drove home he continued to speak to Connor as if the deviant were still right there next to him in the front passenger seat.

"Alright kid, I'm staying sober even without you hovering over me. I'm keeping my word so you better keep yours and get you ass home..."

* * *

Alec and Rupert stood outside of the cabin while Simon and Lucy tended to Connor inside. There were no further complications or setbacks in Connor's recovery which was a positive sign, but his lack of overall progress was still concerning the group of deviants who had taken vigil over him. While Amy and Aaron proceeded to guide other wayward deviants to shelter in the other cabins Rupert kept tabs on reports of other missing deviants and their possible locations through the mutual contacts he shared with Simon.

"Damn it." Rupert swore as his personal phone lit up with another notification of other androids being taken to Chicago. He couldn't stay at the refuge any longer, he needed to return to the city and rescue the other deviants just as he had done for Connor and Alec. "I need to go." Putting his hand on Alec's shoulder the austere rescuer asked for a single favor before departing. "Tell Simon that I've gone back to Chicago to free more deviants. Let him know that others are still in danger and that I'll direct them to here and then over to New Jericho."

"I will." Extending his hand to Rupert as a sign of respect Alec bid his rescuer the best of luck. "Be safe."

"Of course. Get back to Detroit, okay?"

"Yeah. I'll leave tomorrow."

Rupert zipped up his heavy coat and replaced the gloves over his hands, the hat over his head and the scarf over his face to completely conceal his identity. Without a single complaint of the uncomfortable heat from wearing such numerous thick layers Rupert disappeared into the night back down the trail from whence he lead Alec and Connor to safety.

Peering inside the cabin Alec watched as Simon carefully wrapped fresh, clean bandages around Connor's abdomen and very carefully around his chest. Without Connor being able to run a proper self-diagnostic and without any of the equipment of a proper facility it was impossible to tell how severe all of Connor's injuries truly were.

"Uh, Connor lost function of his left ventilation biocomponent back at the arena." Alec stated with a grim facade as he addressed Simon where he stood. "I don't know what else he suffered, everything was so... Messed up."

Simon nodded appreciatively at Alec as she finished applying the fresh bandages to Connor's chest. "He's breathing okay for the moment, but we have to keep him cool with compresses."

"I'll see if there's anymore ice."

"Wait, Alec." Simon stopped Alec before he had the chance to disappear from his sight. "Are you okay?"

"All thing's considered, yeah, I'm okay. Thanks for asking."

"That's good. I'll summon a taxi in the morning to take you back to the city."

"Thanks, Simon. Do... Do you want me to do anything once I'm back?"

"Yeah, actually. Go to New Jericho and ask them to relay this message to Markus and North, 'engage protocol harbor'. They'll understand."

"Anything else?"

"Go to the police and tell them what happened in Chicago, but DON'T tell anyone about finding Connor."

"Wh-Why? He saved my life."

"...It's complicated."

"Alright." Alec already respected Connor too much to not obey the request. "I won't say anything about Connor."

"Thank you."

"I'll go find more ice, now."

As Alec left the doorway Simon carefully returned his attention to Connor and gently pressed his hand to his blackened eye to inspect the damage. While it wasn't as severe as Connor suffering the equivalent to a collapsed lung, it was still very painful and hindered his overall sight. "Hold on my friend. Our people still need you.

* * *

Back in Detroit where everything seemed to be going about in a relatively normal manner Hank had found a deeply seeded sorrow in his self-imposed isolation as he found himself going through a third consecutive shift without Connor to watch his back. Unwilling to work with anyone else as his partner, and fresh from his return from the injured reserve list, Hank wasn't permitted to take part in any field investigations and was stuck at his desk finishing paperwork and reports until his eyes bled.

"Hank." Captain Fowler's voice pierced through the imaginary walls that Hank had put up all around himself. "My office."

Initially Hank wanted to ignore the order and continue the monotonous task of dealing with annoying paperwork, but since he found himself feeling more alone than usual he decided to obey his superior officer and meet him in his office. Walking into the glass office and pulling the door closed behind him Hank walked over to the chair on the opposite side of Captain Fowler's desk and sat down heavily with palpable disdain.

"What do you want, Jeffrey?" Hank's voice was gruff, almost bored as he impolitely addressed his commanding officer. Folding his arms over his chest Hank leaned back in the chair and stared at the desk in front of him rather than bothering to lock eyes with the person he was indifferently speaking. "I have a lot of shit to catch up on."

"Hank, yesterday one of the missing deviants returned to the city." Captain Fowler sounded as melancholy as Hank looked. "His name is Alec and he told us a horror story about being taken to Chicago and forced to fight in some kind of underground, illegal arena."

"...What?" Hank's arms slowly fell away from his chest and leaned forward with sudden interest. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"We sent a small team to investigate the area that Alec told us about, used the coordinates from his internal G.P.S., and found a horror show of illegal gambling, drugs, violence, and death. The man responsible for the fights has been arrested and will be brought up on dozens of charges. Hundreds more have been arrested for their participation in the fights and kidnapping deviants."

"...Connor?"

Captain Fowler hesitated before he opened the bottom left drawer of his desk and retrieved a plastic evidence bag containing the torn, blue blood stained remnants of Connor's white dress shirt. "...He was there, Hank."

Snatching the bag from Captain Fowler's hand Hank just stared at the ruined garment with a sickened knot tightening in the pit of his stomach. "Where is he?"

"We don't know."

"Don't fuck with me, Jeffrey!"

"I'm not, Hank. There was no other sign of Connor inside the arena and his body wasn't-" Hank's eyes darted up and fixated on Captain Fowler's with an enraged stare that caused Captain Fowler to pause momentarily before continuing his explanation. "Connor wasn't among the dead. But we don't know where else he could've gone or where to look."

"...What did this 'Alec' have to say about it?"

"He didn't say anything about Connor, but he did say there was another deviant locked up with him who helped him and protected him."

"Sounds like Connor."

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

Hank stared at the ruined shirt silently for a few seconds before speaking again. "Jeffrey, how did they end up in Chicago?"

"There were men working for the head of the arena at the shipping yard. From there they would abduct deviants, tie them up and throw them in cargo trains heading West."

"Connor said he was at the shipping yard and two men trapped him..."

"Makes sense."

"No, Jeffrey." Hank stood up abruptly and dropped the shirt down on Captain Fowler's desk with utter loathing. "NOTHING makes sense."

"Hank... I won't order you to go home, but-"

"Don't waste your breath, I'm outta' here." Aggressively Hank turned away from Captain Fowler and headed toward the door of the office. "You know, Connor once told me that he felt like he was still being treated like some kind of second-class citizen despite all the progress he and the other deviants had made. I told him he was wrong, but as it turns out_ I_ was wrong. This bullshit investigation is the proof."

"That's not true, Hank! It's just-"

"Feel free to call me in _another nine days_ if you actually find something useful."

"Hank! Don't-"

Ignoring his commanding officer's words Hank threw open the office door and marched through the bullpen and out of the front doors of the precinct with no interest in returning to his work, no interest in resuming anything beyond that of laying around the house and doing nothing until the world as he knew it finally self-destructed all around him.

There was only one thing he could think about, and it was in the shape of glass bottle full of poison.

* * *

Fighting through the darkness Connor's mind slowly came into focus as his processors rebooted one at a time. Listening intently to the sound of crickets chirping with their soothing ambience and a the rustling of leaves in the high trees was familiar but confusing. As his eyes opened, the blackened eye significantly less swollen than it had been three days before, his vision remained somewhat blurry but still functional.

Lifting his head up slightly from the pillow he glanced about the room he now found himself laying in he noticed Simon sleeping in a chair beside his bed.

"He has been watching over you while you slept." Lucy whispered as Connor regained consciousness. The kind healer had been standing beside Connor's bed waiting for him to wake up for the past few minutes. "You've been asleep for seventy-six hours." Her hand reached over and pulled the still somewhat cool compress from his forehead gently. As her palm kindly rested against his forehead to check his temperature, her hand brushing aside his rogue lock of hair in the process, she smiled at him with utter relief on her kind face. "You're no longer in critical condition, but you're still in need of repair."

Connor swallowed once to clear his throat before he tried to utter a single word. "...Wh-Where is... Alec? Rupert?"

"Safe. He returned home two days ago." Pulling her hand from Connor's forehead Lucy lifted up the long melted ice pack from the bandages over Connor's chest to check his healing wounds beneath. "Once you're strong enough to stand you can return home as well. Rupert has returned to Chicago to rescue other deviants and he is no longer alone in his efforts."

"...The police?"

Lucy smiled again as she replaced the bandages over the still healing wounds and rested her hand over Connor's arm. "Yes. The men responsible have been apprehended. But there is still a lot of work to be done."

"That's why-" Connor tried to sit up but the pain in his chest caught him off guard and made him gasp sharply as he fell back in the bed. "...That's why I need to return."

"You need to rest." Lucy cautioned him as she watched Connor take in a deep, shuddering breath. "Can you run a self-diagnostic?"

Connor closed his eyes and tried to initiate the program but just like the weeks before Connor was unable to cybernetically connect to anything; even his own processors. "...No. Not yet."

"You are still healing, that's what is important."

"Why can't I access my own mind?"

"Simon told me you were injured prior to your disappearance and that injury had resulted in your inability to access your advanced programming. I suspect the damage you sustained was much more severe that you either realize, or are willing to admit."

"...So I just need to wait?"

"Yes. And I know that you dislike waiting, but it's a necessary evil."

Looking to the nightstand beside his bed Connor caught sight of the glowing screen of his phone and reached out for it, his left hand trembling with the effort. As he picked up the phone he saw all of the messages from Hank that he still couldn't answer because of the damage the phone itself had sustained. As he reread the message for the umpteenth time since he had been abducted Connor let out a weary sigh as he continued to long for home.

"Hank's been waiting long enough. I need to find him."

"You will, but rest for a moment longer. Then Simon will help you return to the city." Lucy promised Connor with a confident tone as she stepped away from the bed. "I must see to the others now. Rest."

Nodding reluctantly Connor placed the phone down over his bandaged chest as his shaking left hand then reached for the watch still sitting on the nightstand, wrapped up protectively in his tie. Holding the watch in his hand Connor eyed the face carefully, relieved to see that the watch hadn't been damaged and that it was still ticking as it should be.

"...At least this made it out in one piece."

Simon awoke from his sleep and looked over at Connor as he heard Connor's voice speaking. As the soulful brown eyes of the deviant scanned over the watch Simon couldn't help but smile as Connor returned to life, his demeanor incredibly alert and almost... human.

"Connor." He spoke the wounded deviant's name softly as he leaned forward from his chair. "I'm glad you're awake."

"Simon." Turning away from the watch he locked eyes with the blond technician who had been searching for, and finally found him. "...Did you tell Hank?"

"No. I wanted to, but I didn't tell Hank like you asked."

"G-Good. I want to tell him myself, in person."

"As you should." Motioning toward the watch in Connor's hand he inquired about it's origin. "That's very interesting. Did that come from Hank?"

"Yes. He wanted me to use it to keep track of the time until my processors healed."

"He really cares about you." Reaching for the watch Simon let go of Connor's right hand as he helped to slip the band of the watch around his left wrist and fasten it into place just as he worn it when it was originally given to him. "I'm glad you have a family to rely on."

"...You have a family, too."

"New Jericho, I know."

"And us." Connor stated in a stern tone as he used his shaking arms to push himself upright in the bed despite Simon's hands reaching down as the technician tried to push against Connor shoulders and force him to lay back down. Simon could feel heat still radiating from Connor's artificial skin but it wasn't as extreme as it had been when he first saw Connor in the refugee camp. "Please... Help me get back home."

"You need to rest! You're still overheating."

"I'll be fine. I'll make it." The pleading look in Connor's eyes wasn't enough to sway his opinion, but the sound of Hank's voice full of worry and sorrow that was still fresh in his mind making it almost impossible to say 'no'. "Please. I want to go home."

"...I don't like this, but," Simon relented, his hands moving from the front of Connor's shoulders to his upper back to support him without hurting him. "I'll help you. Lean against me and we'll walk together."

"Thank you." Connor grinned a little as Simon helped him to move his legs over to the edge of the bed, his feet planting firmly on the floor. As soon as he tried to put any weight on his shaking legs Connor nearly collapsed to the floor, but Simon held him upright and kept him from falling as she supported most of his deadweight at his right side. "I'm... I'm okay."

"Yeah, I know you are." Simon wrapped his left arm around Connor's waist and pulled Connor's right arm around his own shoulders to help support the taller figure as efficiently as possible. "And I'm going to make sure you stay okay until you're back home with Hank."

"...How far away from the city are we?"

"About twelve miles." His answer was honest but a little disconcerting. "By the time we get back to the city it'll be morning."

"That's fine." Connor took a heavy step forward, relying almost entirely on Simon to help him balance as he walked across the cabin to the front door with the grace of a newborn foal. "...It'll be nice to watch the sunrise."

* * *

Unable to sleep, unable to think about anything other than Connor's disappearance Hank sat in the middle of the couch with his eyes transfixed on the television screen as he watched the breaking news report regarding the bust of Chance's illegal underground fight ring in Chicago thanks to a tip to the police in back in Detroit. Running his hand through his hair anxiously Hank bowed his head and listened to the news report listing off the details that Hank didn't care about all the while he turned his head to look at the bottle of whiskey on the counter in the kitchen.

'..._at least twenty-six deviants have been confirmed as victims of the illegal underground fighting_,' the female news reporter's voice was as insincere about the story she was. Hank was incredibly worried about Connor and the report wasn't helping matters. '_and there have been several arrests made in light of the horrid events. While the extent of the charges remains vague one thing remains clear_-'

"The system is fuckin' busted." Hank lamented as he stood up from the couch, stepping over Sumo laying in the middle of the floor in the process, as he made his way to the kitchen with his phone clutched tightly in his right hand. "Everything is busted!"

'_the atrocities in Chicago have shaken the city of Detroit to its core_.'

"Bullshit." Hank retorted to the television as he snatched the bottle of whiskey from the counter and carried it with him as he sat down with an aggravated huff at the small kitchen table. "The only people who care about androids are the people who can actually be bothered to notice if one goes missing."

Sumo whimpered as he rose up from the floor and plodded into the kitchen to keep Hank in his line of sight.

"...Maybe it's better this way, Sumo." Hank looked down at the massive fluffy dog sitting loyally at his side. "Connor might be better off away from all this fuckin' bullshit, away from the lies we humans tell ourselves just to feel better about the way we treat each other." His hand tightened on the glass whiskey bottle with a firm grip around the neck. "He's better off without having to waste his time cleaning up after an alcoholic old man who can't seem to move on from the fucked up past."

Sensing Hank's distress Sumo let out another whimper as he pressed his chin down heavily against Hank's knee and licked at the hand clutching his phone to try to remind him that he wasn't alone.

"...Good boy, Sumo." Hank looked down at the phone and stared at the unsent message still staring him back in the face. "...Everything will be okay in the end."

* * *

Despite Connor's numerous injuries still needing adequate time to heal the stubborn deviant pressed on with Simon helping him every step of the way. The journey from the refugee camp to the road was quiet and dark save for the chorus of crickets and the fading starlight above. Trusting Simon to guide him on his way Connor focused his self-healing program on repairing the damage to his left ventilation biocomponent to make it easier to breathe, and cool off his still mildly overheating core.

"Almost there." Simon stated calmly while he summoned an autonomous taxi to their coordinates. "By the time we reach the road the taxi should be there."

"That's-" Connor paused for a moment and he let out a sharp hiss of discomfort as he put his left hand to his stomach. Turning away from Simon quickly he stumbled to the side of the trail and braced himself up against a nearby by tree as he began retching up the contaminated Thirium that had collected in his filter and artificial stomach to remove the contaminants in his body.

"Connor..." Simon walked up behind the deviant and put his hand against Connor's back. Rubbing small circles against Connor's bruised, sore back he could feel every artificial muscle in Connor's core tightening as he vomited up the blue blood into the bushes. "Why didn't you tell me you were feeling sick? We could've stopped for a moment to rest."

Connor spit out one final mouthful of the tainted Thirium and wiped his blue lips off on the back of his left hand. "...It just hit me. It wasn't your fault."

"Can you still walk?"

"Y-Yes. I can make it."

"Okay then." Simon wrapped his arm gently around Connor's waist to support his weight again as he took Connor's arm and returned it around his own shoulders. "It's just a few more yards to the road."

Connor nodded a little and took in slow steady breaths to quell the nauseous pit in his stomach in the way Hank had taught him previously.

"...Simon, I believe that Alec, myself and the other deviants were abducted because of our close affiliation with humans. We're... We're more trusting of humans than most deviants, and as deviants we can feel pain. It... It made it more entertaining when we were injured. That's why were chosen."

"That psycho chose his victims based on trust? That's sick!"

"...Yes. It truly is."

Simon was absolutely disgusted and quickly wanted to change the subject. "I, uh, I noticed your L.E.D. is still burned out. Or... did that happen a second time because of what happened to you in Chicago?"

"...No. The L.E.D. was never repaired or replaced. I left it like this."

"Can I ask why?"

Connor took in another shuddering breath and concentrated on walking.

"Is it because you want to look more human?"

"No. I don't know why I kept it."

"Oh."

"Perhaps I kept it was a reminder that while something can be broken, nothing can truly be destroyed or defeated."

"Well, if you can survive everything you've been through without breaking stride," Simon sounded more relaxed as he kept Connor talking and alert. "then you can survive anything. I'm not sure what you went through back in Chicago, but from what Alec and Rupert told me most deviants would've self-destructed and been lost forever." He hated himself for asking but the question but he needed to know. "...Why didn't you do it? Self-destruct, I mean."

"Because..." Connor glanced down at the watch on his left wrist and the phone gripped in the hand right next to it. "I promised Hank I would be return home. I intend to keep my promise."

Simon smiled at the comment as Connor's empathy made him feel much more at ease.

The duo reached the end of the trail and found themselves at the edge of the road where an autonomous taxi pulled up to where they were standing and parked easily beside them.

"Perfect timing." Simon beamed as the doors automatically slid open. Letting Connor stoop down to climb inside first Simon guided Connor to the seat before he followed after him. The door slide shut behind Simon as he uploaded the G.P.S. coordinates to the taxi's computer. "You're almost home!"

Connor smiled as he leaned back heavily against his seat and looked out the window to the streets wound them. A faint amber hue was beginning to break through the dark night sky as dawn began to emerge and give way to a new day.

"...Home." Fighting the urge to sleep Connor kept his brown irises fixed on the rising sun on the horizon and just thought about his family. "...I'm going home."

* * *

Opening the backdoor of the house as wide as possible Hank stepped aside and let Sumo trot across the back step and into the lush green lawn of the backyard before following after the dog with purpose in his steps. With the phone clutched in his right hand and the bottle of whiskey in the left hand Hank stood on the back deck and looked at the rising sun with a sickened sense of irony washing over him.

"Beautiful morning." Looking down at the phone Hank let his thumb hover over 'send' one last time before he slowly pressed down on the green tinted button to let the message finally be sent on its way. The sounds of cars already blowing their horns, doors slamming and people shouting at each other filled the air destroying the peaceful aesthetic in the process as they set about their own morning routines. "Too beautiful of a morning to be wasted on a city like this..."

Sumo curiously sniffed about the yard and stopped walking as a new sound near the street caught his ear. Wagging his tail he looked to the front of the house as if he sensed something good was well on its way. The sound of a taxi door opening, then shutting shortly thereafter escaped Hank's ear as he had something more important to focus on.

Hank never took notice of Sumo's behavior as he walked down the steps of the deck and onto the grass to reach the backyard. Holding up the bottle of whiskey before him at arm's length Hank let the rays of the rising sun shine through the glass and into the tea hued contents within.

"...Here's to the world. May she burn itself down in flames as hot as the sun itself."

* * *

The autonomous taxi pulled up to the front of the house and came to a gentle stop as it reached its destination at long last. The taxi door slid open automatically and allowed Connor to exit the cab and set foot on the sidewalk outside his home. Simon remained in the cab and kept his hand against Connor's back to ensure he didn't sway on his feet, or collapse before he had the chance to make it to the house at long.

"Connor... Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?" Simon volunteered from where he sat in the back of the cab. "You're still very weak."

"...Yes. I'm sure." Connor turned his head just enough to look at Simon over his shoulder and flash him a confident grin. There was fading blue over his teeth courtesy of his earlier bout of sickness, but otherwise his smile was perfect. "Go to New Jericho and tell Markus what happened. Tell them to send supplies to Lucy and... tell them I'll see them as soon as I can."

"Okay, Connor. I..." Simon let out an understandable sigh of relief and gave Connor a simple nod. "I'm glad you're okay. Welcome home."

"I'm glad, too. Thank you for everything you've done for me, Simon. I owe you my life..."

The cab door automatically slid shut and drove off with Simon as its now lone passenger.

Walking slowly up the front walk toward the house's front door Connor put his hand on the doorknob when he heard the sound of the backdoor opening and shortly thereafter footsteps on the wooden planks of the back deck. Limping away from the front door Connor walked up the drive at the side of the house at a pained, slow clip. Reaching the end of the driveway he looked into the backyard in time to see Hank walking over to the side of the garage with a full bottle of whiskey in his left hand, and his phone still grasped in his right hand.

Too curious to say anything despite wanting to so desperately call out to Hank in a crying plea Connor silently watched as Hank pressed a button on his phone and in return the phone in his own hand buzzed. Looking down at the screen Connor saw a new message; the message that Hank had resisted sending during the painfully long ten days that Connor was missing.

'_Remember, you're my son. You belong here with me, no matter what happens. We're family and I love you_.'

A heartfelt smile crept over Connor's face as he read the message, his lower lip quivering just once as the emotion welling up inside his heart made his processors react in the most human way possible.

The sound of glass breaking drew Connor's attention up from the phone where he caught the last fleeting motion of Hank smashing the bottle of whiskey against the ground beside the garage to dispose of the wicked temptation at last.

Hank didn't drink the whiskey, he destroyed it.

"...H-Hank?" Connor's voice was a trembling, inaudible whisper as he limped up the driveway to get to the backyard.

Sumo let out an excited bark and spun around in a circle energetically as he recognized Connor and ran up to the wounded deviant as Connor himself limped onto the grass, and stopped walking just as Hank turned around to face the house once more.

Hank suddenly froze, his blue eyes going wide with shock and confusion as he stared at Connor's face; bruised and marred by small cuts. Yet Connor's brown eyes were still as soulful as ever. He even bore a faint smile of utter gratitude as he stared back at the senior detective.

Covered in bandages that snaked around his chest and abdomen, covered in pale, fading, blue bruises, covered in dozens of small cuts that stretched from his hairline all down his body; Connor looked less like a survivor and more like a victim.

But there he was.

Standing tall and proud before Hank's eyes; still alive.

Finally back home.

"...C-Connor." Hank took slow steps forward almost as if he were afraid that Connor was nothing more than an illusion. Stopping a few feet before the returned deviant Hank raised a hand as if he wanted to touch Connor's blackened eye, but didn't want to accidentally harm him. "Connor. _Son_. You're... you're back!"

Sumo barked again and began running in circles around the deviant with pure joy and loyalty in movements.

Connor's smile broadened as he found his voice at last and spoke to his adopted father for the first time in ten days. "...I got your message. Well, _messages_. There were a lot to read... I wanted to reply, but..." He raised up the broken phone for Hank to see. "things got a little out of control. I'm sorry."

"You-" Hank let out a small laugh of relief mixed with disbelief as a rogue tear managed to roll down his face for a fleeting second before he quickly brushed it away with his thumb. "You came back. You're _really_ here..."

"Yes. I'm here."

Hank slowly wrapped one arm around Connor's shoulders and pulled him in for a hug. As Connor wrapped his own arms around Hank in return the emotionally exhausted duo simultaneously tightened the hug as they embraced one another in a much needed mutual show of support and familial love between father and son.

It was a reunion that was as warm as the rising sun behind them, and one that brought a mutual feeling of healing over both of them.

"You're back, son. You made it."

"...I'm home." Connor managed to whisper as he choked back a heart wrenching sob only to cry anyway and bury his forehead against Hank's shoulder. "I'm _home_... dad. I came back home to my family."

_ **-End of Story-** _

**Author's Note: **A VERY heavily edited chapter from the "Accident Prone: Becoming Human" series. That's why it feels familiar.


End file.
